Sunflower Stories


So a few weeks ago I took a break from social media. I did it for a number of reasons. I did it to gain a sense of control. I did it to return back to my own life. I did it because I felt myself sinking into it…
Sinking into an uncontrollable void. Forgoing life for a virtual reality. Social media became my friend, my enemy, my lover, my life. I allowed it to over take my life. It sucked my down into a world I DID NOT want to be apart of. Before I “logged off” I talked about how I compare my life to the life of others. I talked about how that made me feel like less of a person. I talked about how I need to gain a sense of independence.
But, when I announced that I was logging off, one thing that I DIDN’T talk about was the overwhelming sense of jealousy I was feeling while scrolling thru my social media. I never once talked about how jealousy rages inside me when I’m too into social media. 
I am a very jealous person. I get jealous over my friend’s promotion. I get jealous over random strangers on vacation. I get jealous when someone else is flirting with someone I’m talking to. 
One thing “logging off” helped me recognize is the fact that I am very jealous. The first step to solving any problem is admitting you have a problem. 
*Raises hand high in the air*
I am a jealous, catty, mostly lazy person. 
I’ve recognized the issues. Now what? 

Now I “work on them?” 

NowI change them? 
But what if…

What if I do nothing about them?

What if I simply accept them?

What if I understand them?
How about now…. I own them.
Jealousy is a part of my life. Personally, being jealous has helped me grow. It has helped me achieve more than what I previously had. I accept the fact I’m catty and it doesn’t bother me. It doesn’t change who I am as a person. It is simply a part of me. Neither negative nor positive. Just a simple fact. Lastly, FUCK yea I’m lazy. When I’m not working either of my jobs, when I’m not writing, when I’m not trying to push my blog, when I’m not trying to put together a modeling portfolio, when I’m not being an advocate for HIV+ youth, when I’m not maintaining relationships, when I’m not busy… I’m LAZY A.F. 
If any of those things bother you, then I guess this is the wrong blog for you. I guess I am the wrong individual for you. My goal is to be 100% me. I write to tell myself about myself. I write to connect myself with other like-minded individuals. I write to be unapologetic. 
Stay true to you, and never change. Comment below with a one line description of your personality. Let’s connect. 🙂 
PLUR Regards,

Tyler Hurt



Calvin Hawk #1

I am so proud to introduce Calvin Hawk as my first featured artist. His work is simply amazing, and he pulls inspiration from various different shows. He has been hand selected to work with RAW Artists for a showcasing next week. He is an up and coming cartoonist. Give his IG page a follow, or simply like some of his pictures. If you have any questions for him directly his IG info is below or simply leave a comment. Thanks.! 🙂

One of the reasons I really started to love drawing: Dragonball Z
The red ranger is the leader of every group, as I want to be the leader of my own destiny: Many faces of RED Ranger
One of my longest standing inspiration: Beetleborgs
Dexter enticed me to add a deeper level to my art by adding additional shapes, contouring, etc.: Dexters Laboratory

If you would like to be featured on this blog contact me at anytime. The contact tab above has all my info as well as hyperlinks to my IG directly. Enjoy.! 🙂 #SunflowerItUp


Artist: Calvin Hawk


IG: @hawkboijr



I’m drowning in a sea of sorrow.

I can’t seem to breath.

I can’t hold on to air.

I can’t grab onto the stairs.

I’m dying and I don’t understand.

My anxiety has gone beyond anything I can control.

I want to break. I want to drown.

My lungs seize on breaths not taken.


Oh, no, I can see the monster I had hidden away. I’ve named him. He hides in the dark corners of my mind.

Depy is his name.

He feeds off happiness. He feeds off fear. He feeds off my rising anxiety.

Depy is an asshole.

Depy doesn’t care.

Several peers have reminded me that consistency is an opportunity for me; both personally and professionally. I laugh…Consistency is what’s missing in my life? Consistency is what’s missing in my personal development?

I can’t just “ignore” the bad days. It’s not like I haven’t tried. I’m as consistent as I can possibly be. You think it’s just a “rough patch”. You think it’s just a “bad day”. Well let me tell you it’s not.

It’s more than just having a bad day. I don’t have a simple “bad day” – I have a bad week, a bad month, a bad year. Sometimes Depy is content with sleeping in the darkness, but other times he wants to come out and play. There is no way to fight him. I’ve grown tired. I’m in constant pain. Constantly trying to recognize the warning signs.

Want to see consistency? Want to see normal? Look at the video in my mind. During a “good day” I check on Depys door. I try the handle. It’s locked. I take the key out and unlock it. I peek inside. He is sleeping peacefully. Better not disturb him. Let Depy sleep. Let him slumber. If he wakes, there will be hell to pay. There is always a hell to pay.

I knew these good days were starting to come to an end. I consistently check his room. Everyday. Today I can hear him starting to stir. I can hear him wanting to wake up. I can hear him become restless. I can hear him. I run away from the door. I curl up into a ball and I sob. I cry because I don’t want to return. I cry because the battle only gets harder. Every time he wakes up it’s harder to put him back to sleep. It’s harder to make him relax. I’m so tired of fighting him.

When does it get easier? When am I allowed to stop fighting? When can I put him to a final rest?

It feels like never. It feels like I’ll always fight. It feels like it will go on until I die. It feels like…


I need to run
I need to cry
I need to hide
I need to tell someone
I need to escape
I need to stop
I need to fight
I NEED to fight

I NEED TO fight


At this moment,
I WILL fight you. I will NOT cower.
I WILL fight you with my dying breath. I will NOT let you decide what’s right and wrong for me.
I WILL be strong. I will NOT take medication to help.
I WILL overcome depression. I will NOT succumb to you.
I WILL prevail.

I may be drowning, but I will not give in.

I may be depressed, but I will not quit.

I may be down, but I will come back up.


PLUR Regards,


Tyler Hurt



Edited by: Heather LaBarge, Exalted Peacock

Logging off… 

My anxiety has been thru the roof lately. Almost everything sets it off. I can’t quite put my finger on the why either. There has been a lot going on recently. 

I’ve quit one job

I’ve been promoted at another 

I’ve moved (again)

I’ve started a big project 

I’m starting a new relationship

I’m really investing my time in social media…
Social media. 
I wonder how many times I check my pages. How many times do I check the number of readers I’ve received for the day? How many times do I click on one of my apps? How many times do I refresh the page? 
If I can digress for a moment, last year I took a complete hiatus from social media; during my time away I started to take an interest in my life and in the life of the people around me. I started to make real, meaningful connections. My levels of anxiety decreased significantly. I had control over my own life. I wasn’t comparing my life to the lives of anyone else’s. 
Fast forward to this year; I dove back into social media. I told myself it would only be used as tool. I said I would only post in order to inform followers of my blog. I would use it to network. Instead, I’m subconsciously comparing myself to my followers. I’ve started to disengage from life. 
Social media has consumed my life, my thoughts, my friendships, even how I court (date). I compare my downfalls, to the uphills of others. I say “look at how well they are doing, compared to how poorly I am doing”. I check my phone more than I check on my friends. I check my number of readers more than I call my family. I check the number of likes before I check my own pulse. 
I’ve used social media as a way to gain “confidence”. If I get more readers, if I get more likes, if it’s shared one more time then that must mean I matter. 
None of that actually matters though. It’s just a void spectacle. It’s just meaningless love. It’s fake confidence. I sit and wonder why my anxiety is so sky high lately. Maybe if I disconnect for a little bit? Maybe if I stopped caring about what cyber world thinks? Maybe if a started caring about myself? Maybe… 
Just maybe…
This week I’m challenging myself. I’m logging off. All my social media will be “off”. I will not be posting, I will not care about my views, or likes, and; I’m going to count exactly how many times I click on the apps. 
And I challenge you to do the same. For one week, click off. 
For everyone I’ve contacted for the collab project. My phone will still be on, and I’ll be available on email if you need to get a hold of me for any questions, but all social media communication will be cut. 
PLUR Regards,

Tyler Hurt


Sticks & Stones 

Fuck you. Fuck off. Fuck me. Just fuck. 
Fuck yea. Fuck this. Fuck that. Just fuck. 
Fuck her. Fuck him. Fuck them. Just fuck. 
Negative or positive. It’s just a word. The phrase sticks and stones my brake my bones, but words will never hurt me. Who ever came up with that phrase obviously doesn’t understand the power behind words. 
Words break us. Words mold us. Words define us. As a writer and a blogger words are my life. When I was in middle school I stopped showing up to school. I didn’t understand how to handle the words being thrown at me. Words like…
Faggot, twig, anoriex, feminine, hot(for a black guy), slut, whore, disgusting, too much to handle, robot, alcoholic, nasty, stupid…
Going into high school I decided I would change myself. I no longer wanted to be defined by such words. I created a “brand new person”. I only let the world see what I wanted them to see. People started to use words like…
Leader, inspirational, caretaker, strong, independent, beautiful, loud, fearless, amazing, thoughtful, caring, old-soul, loving, different, average, savege, thinker, resilient, real…
As an adult I’ve struggled with the different faces I show the world. For a brief time I was seeing a counselor to help me deal with my struggle. He constantly had to remind me everyone wears a different mask depending on the situation, but that wasn’t my issue. I didn’t simply put on a new mask. I had created several different personas. They all had different names, attitudes towards life, habits, jobs, even wordrobe:
Tyler Hurt: professional, clean cut, never does drugs, drinks occasionally(1-2 beers 3 days a week), has one partner(little did anyone know), has an understanding of life(but hates it), works in retail management, lives to work, straight, SOBER
Tiller: wild child, alcoholic, drug abuser, people abuser, lives in the moment, says yes to anything(and anyone), expects the world to be given to him, works as a drug dealer(trap house), loves life(but has zero understand how the world works), gay, ADDICTED. 
Ty Ty: small child, does what he is told, doesn’t talk back, doesn’t question authority, cares for everyone(even though they may not care back), needs constant emotional support, just wants to sit and cry, works as a full time caretaker for his brothers, and mother, has zero understanding of the world(and hates life), questions sexuality, BROKEN. 
Words play a significant role in everyone’s life. 

There is a power in allowing words to describe you. In taking back the “negative” words and using it as a positive. 
I’m learning to combine all of those personas to create the person I am today. 
Tyler Robert Hurt: professional, wild child, decent understanding of the world(and learning to fall

In love with it), brother, uncle, son, lover, bisexual, busy bee, writer, blogger, sober(mostly), music festival enthusiast, aspiring model, accepts people, expects nothing in life, makes decisions(personal, and professional), reaches out to ask for help, clean(ish) person, healthy(mostly), RECOVERING. 
This post started off as something else and just evolved. Just as I am. Just as you are. Continue to grow and evolve. Anything you want in life can be achieved. You allow which words define you, so pick the ones that best fit. 
PLUR Regards, 


Tyler Robert Hurt


How many times… 

I tried so many times. I tried to say no. I tried begging him to stop. I didn’t want too. I wasn’t in the mood. Why wasn’t any of that enough? 
Beginning of my first official “adult” summer. I had just turned 18 and was invited to my very first party ever. This guy that I liked invited me. I walked in thinking I was hot shit, yet feeling isolated and alone. I didn’t know anyone. 
I drank until I could speak. That was MY mistake. 
I trusted you to help take care of me. That was also MY mistake. 
You kissed me. I kissed back. That was nice, but you wanted more. I was too drunk. I tried to push you off of me. You whispered that it was okay. Luckily people came around the corner and pulled you off. Luckily it didn’t go farther than my hands being held down, but still I felt confused. I felt ashamed. 
I drank even more. I passed out. I fucked up. 
Woke up the next morning with a throbbing head and glimpses of memories from the previous night. Luckily those strangers that you introduced me too turned to friends. Luckily they saw you enter the room I was passed out in. Luckily they stopped you for a second time that night. 
I heard what happened while I was sleeping. 
I felt…






And for the first time in a long time I felt vulnerable. I hated those feelings. I hated you for those feelings. I hated myself for feeling anything at all. That entire summer I drank away the pain. I drugged myself until I felt better. I made myself forget you ever happened. Only for it to repeat a few years later. 
I’m in my first ever “real” relationship. I lived with you. I wanted this to be forever. You refused to let me in. I refused to give up. I wanted my love to out weigh your toxic behavior.
The bar was open 24/7, and you thought I was too. I heard my self saying no constantly. I told you I needed sleep. I convinced myself that if I really loved you it didn’t matter what I wanted. 
The word no slowly turned into my silence. The phrase not right now turned into if you drank less then sure. It was always a business transaction. Toward the end I needed to run away. I moved several times during those long 9 months. Never fully unpacking my bags. Always ready with a backup place to live. Always ready to jump ship, just in case. 
I can’t seem to make myself forget. 
I feel…






And i have finally broken the notion that I am a whore. For the longest time I was told that because I sleep with so many people no one can cherish me. I’ve been told because I give myself up freely, so no one will love me. I’m finding it hard to love myself. I give myself up because it’s the little bit of control that I do have. If you won’t listen to the word no, then I’ll simply PRETEND it was my choice to say yes. 
I’ve given myself to men. I’ve given myself to women. I’ve given my self to everyone. Anyone and everyone can have a turn, but my emotions are mine. I refuse to open up, to only be treated like “the whore I am”. If I’m going to be called a whore I may as well act the part. 
I’m starting to treat myself with respect. I’m starting to know better. I’m starting to deal with these emotions. Writing these memories brought me to tears. It’s still too real for me. It’s still to present. 
How can I let go of something that shaped so much of me? How can I apologize when hate myself for letting it get that far? How can I let them go when I can’t make you acknowledge what you did? How many times must i utter the words until you listen? How many times must I shake my head until you see? How many times must I lay on my back for you to love me? Just how many times…
The pain is still here, but I’m learning to grow. 
These questions are for you. This paragraph is for you. I let you go. I vanish you from my thoughts. I release you from the harm. I must live thru each day. Each day I get a little bit stronger. A little bit further away. I little bit happier. 

As I stated before I’m trying really hard to be open and honest with my readers. This is part of my journey. I know I’m not the ONLY one who has gone thru this. I know I’m not the only person to accuse someone from the “rave house” circa 2011/2012. If anyone ever wants to talk reach out. 
Men can also be raped, and just because your together with someone does NOT mean your voice is too be silenced. 
How many times should you say the word NO? 
Only once. 
PLUR Regards,

Tyler Hurt


Little things… 

The little things always mater. No one likes to blame the little things. No one likes to take he blame. Well you know what… I’m tired of these games.  
It’s the moments we don’t talk about. It’s the times we store away. It’s the thoughts we almost forgot. They add up. Slowly but surely you spiral down a deep, dark hole. There are no footholds to help you out. No ladder being thrust down. No voices you can hear. 
Simply silence. It engulfs you. Darkness becomes you. Hatred cradles you like a sleeping baby. 
This past week I’ve watched the show “13 reasons why”. Before I even stated the show I looked at others reactions. Some making fun of the presentation of the show, others being triggered emotionally. I didn’t think I would be either. I thought my memories of the past were simply that “Memories of the Past”. 
Without giving any spoilers, the show is about a high school girl that commits suicide. She was severely bullied in a small town where everyone knows each other. Rumors were spread, friendships destroyed, and surprise always happen. Hannah (girl who commits suicide) sends out 13 tapes telling her portion of truth. Her “13 Reasons Why”. 
While I don’t believe in blaming ANYONE for doing such a selfish action. This show has definitely trigger some major emotional thoughts for me recently, so with that being said I’d like to tell you a story…
PLUR Regards,


Tyler Hurt