DIODI - One Bad Decision at a Time.
Everyone talks about someday. Next time. When things calm down. It’s all bullshit. Life isn’t a bar tab you can keep open until you’re ready to pay. Time always collects, and it doesn’t give a damn how busy you were. Being productive isn’t the same thing as truly living your life.
I chased what I thought was supposed to matter. The cars, the houses, the titles, the noise. For a while it worked. It filled the silence and made me think I was living. Then it didn’t. The shine wore off and all that was left was habit. Most of it was just distraction dressed up as purpose. I built the life I was told I should want and it still felt empty. That’s when Did it or Damn it became the only rule that made sense.
DIODI is my filter for everything. When I’m old, broken, and sitting on a porch somewhere, half-blind and cranky, waiting for the nurse with the wet wipes to make her rounds, I want two columns in my head. Did it or Damn it.
If I did it, I lived it. I’ve got the story, the scar, or the proof that I showed up for my own life.
If I damn it, it means I wasted a chance. I blinked and let something real pass because I was too scared, too lazy, or too busy pretending comfort was happiness.
Most people never question the script. They chase paychecks, call exhaustion success, and mistake comfort for living. The world keeps them too busy to notice the cage. They buy the lie, smile for the photo, and call it freedom. Then one day they wake up, empty, comfortable, and already dead, just waiting for the paperwork.
That’s the truth nobody likes to say out loud. Comfort kills faster than failure. It makes people quiet, soft, and forgettable. They call it stability because rotting slowly doesn’t look good on a vision board. A girl I once loved told me, seek discomfort daily. She was right. The moment you stop chasing it, you start dying.
I don’t want perfect. I don’t want safe. I want days that mean something and nights that leave a mark. I want stories that make sense when I’m too old to make excuses. No plan. No safety net. No apology. Just me, a few bags, a cat with an attitude, and the refusal to die while I’m still breathing.
Did it or Damn it.
One bad decision at a time.
