Money doesn’t buy you happiness they say. Well I’ll take whatever problems having too much money gives you over not having it.

When I read blogs I read real life and those lives are often similar to the one I live. I don’t follow movie stars, famous artists (other than Justin Bieber because I Belieb and you all should too), or anyone that is swimming in cash. I don’t follow those people because I don’t live that life and seeing someone that doesn’t know the struggle and hasn’t ever had to worry about buying food tomorrow isn’t of interest to me.

I remember nights when I was still in and I thought of ways to win the lottery. Right? I mean you laugh, but man… I had fucking spreadsheets and excel pages printed out. It looked like sudoku only I was playing the lotto and wanted to win!

Of course when you want money that bad you don’t leave things only to luck. I wasn’t going to buy a hundred lottery tickets… ok I only did that once but I was so sure! Anyways… I turned to poker. Now keep in mind Moneymaker had just won his tournament and every fucking Joe Shmoe thought he was moneymaker in college. So did I.

The problem is I never gave that dream up and I played forever after college. I’m not going to lie there was a time when it got a bit crazy and I won’t get into details because Gary is really bad at guarding the door. Needless to say you hit the rubber one day and I did, hard. We went through some tough times after that and I’m lucky my wife stayed with me.

Only four people have asked me why I wear two rings and two of those are my family so they don’t count. I’ll tell you even though you didn’t ask. I lost my wedding ring in a bankruptcy almost ten years ago and I’ll never forget that feeling. I felt like the biggest failure in the world and the only thing I wanted to do was beg my wife’s forgiveness, cry, and then die over there somewhere. We went that weekend to get a ring, we couldn’t afford much obviously, so we went to a kiosk and I bought a $12 silver ring (they said it was silver, but this wouldn’t stand no pirate test). Two years later I lost it whole walking around my office at the time. A friend of mine recovered it for me from a villainous evil snake (a whole different story) and sent it to me since I’d already moved on to a new company. I had already bought a new ring, a tighter ring, but I figured I’d wear both. Why not.

It’s become a symbol, a reminder for me. Whenever I think times are tough I flick my thumb across my ring finger and the sound jars my memory. It reminds me of tougher times when I wasn’t sure if my life was right and that sometimes it just takes time. And hope.

I wish you all hope bloggers.

-Opinionated Man



My mind

I want to welcome you to my mind.

It’s a dark thing, but I’m finding light. It isn’t light through the darkness either. There are just areas where I wasn’t in control.

I have control now, come I’ll show you the rest.

Tons of area to be creative. Tons of space I’ve wasted… time. It does seem to slip away, where does she go…

But we have time now, take my hand. Please.

I’ll show you the areas where light seems to grow.

You’ll like that.

You’ll see the darkness no more.

You’ll believe that…

If you shut yours eyes you’ll see it too. A tour of darkness for me and you.





I’m here to motivate you into stepping past the image of yourself.

Step forward.

Shatter the image you think you see and become the person past that flat impression. Stepping and crushing into little pieces the flimsy pieces of yourself that were never meant to be. They fall tumbling down your person as you brush pieces of yourself off your body. Tiny tingling shimmers of life that aren’t worth living again. Falling like snowflakes to your feet as you walk further into me.

You are me and I am you as we walk through the mirror of what we knew.




Hoping to Die

There was a time in my life when the land was covered in darkness. It did not matter what time of the day it was there was simply no light. I walked the world a ghost and prayed to any god that would listen that he or she would simply end it for me. I wanted to die. I wrote the below poem in remembrance of that time of weakness.

And there they lay. The tools of the day. A razor, a pile of pills, and a bottle of Tanqueray.

I have stared in the mirror for hours. All have gone to bed. With each tear has come resolve. We may as well end it all. I hate you. With a hand I gulp the pills, the bottle is already near. I gulp death’s companion. And to the left are the backup dancers.

A letter to someone… I hope… anyone?

Never there is a reply. I say this aloud now as the razor cuts once, twice, thrice… and as the ice cold water washes away my sight. I feel life fleeing from my nearing empty vessel. And suddenly a wrongness, a surrender of an opportunity? I do not know.

And as the light flees the coming darkness, all I can do is embrace the growing warmth.

People fail to realize that there is depression and there is suicidal. To me suicidal is the point you reach when you just don’t care. You could give a shit less about heaven or hell, they are one and the same because your life has become a living hell. It doesn’t matter how many “do gooders” speak soft words in your direction, you only see darkness.

I remember well that time still to this day. The feeling of that night, sitting online and telling a few “close online friends” that I just didn’t care. That it was time to see what the next page brought. I remember a feeling of finality when I shut down my mother’s computer. My steps were almost light as I walked slowly upstairs. Neither asleep, nor really awake… I walked like a man in a daze to my bathroom. I starred at myself in the mirror for what seems like hours and in those precious minutes I decided I was ready to die. I made that choice. I took those pills and I drank that bottle to the head and I remember smiling. Because finally I didn’t feel so cold anymore. The warmth of death was my friend that night and I was ready to receive him.

It changes you… that type of experience. It is nothing to brag about and many might feel ashamed of that type of weakness. To feel ashamed of being human is a shame in itself. I was human that night, but I am lucky my humanity failed to die.

-Opinionated Man

Jason C. Cushman



HarsH ReaLiTy 5.0

Disclaimer: Horrible language and thought 

Anger: Dammit not another meeting! At least this one is by group chat.

Jason: Guys we have to get a grip on our anger. It is getting out of control. I mean… we went to Massage Envy, remember that anger? What the fuck chuck?

Angry: Jesus. I wish it was my job to walk around and think of colorful ways of telling people they are pieces of shit at their job. Don’t get mad at me for being me.

Harmony: I think if you two used more emojis 🤝 we would see more brotherly love here. Let’s be love. 🙌

Angerier: Where is the emoji for I want to punch you in the face? 😡

Harmony: See! You found one! Don’t you feel that anger coming out and subsiding?!?

Angeriest: 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

Jason: This is going to be a long meeting… and when the fuck did you all get cell phones? 🤔