Nerd Life

Street Tactics (1)

Modern Day Prostitution

Am I the only one that is getting tired of seeing on FB, IG, Tik Tok and all these other social media platforms nothing but sex ads to buy some modern day digital prostitutes naked pictures and or videos from OnlyFans?

Let’s be real: platforms like OnlyFans are modern-day prostitution dressed up in digital convenience. Women are selling explicit content to men they’ve never met, most of them older, perverted strangers believing they’re in control. But the truth is, they’re putting themselves in real danger, mentally and emotionally, even if it’s not physical.

They call it empowerment, but let’s not pretend it’s that simple. It’s exploitation disguised as an opportunity. These women are giving intimate access to their bodies for a monthly fee, often to survive financially, not because they’re building toward a future. And when you strip it down, it’s the same transaction that’s been going on for centuries just with a smartphone instead of a street corner.

The harsh reality? There’s no long-term payoff. Your body will give out. Someone younger, more attractive, and more willing will always be ready to replace you. What happens then? You’re left with no real skills, a trail of explicit content you can’t erase, and a society that’s quick to shame the very people it profits off.

There’s no retirement plan in sex work. No safety net. Just a temporary spotlight, and when it fades, so does the money, the attention, and the false sense of power.

And while we can criticize the women making these choices, we also need to look deeper. Why is this even such a viable option? Because too many people, especially women are boxed into a system where their value is tied to their looks, their sex appeal, and their willingness to sell both.

We should be asking: What kind of society have we created where this feels like the best option for so many? Whatever happened to human connection?

Reading Rainbow

📚 "Take a look, it's in a book..."

I grew up on Reading Rainbow.

The younger generation knows nothing about it except for they are out here flexin’ ignorance like it’s a damn badge of honor. Meanwhile, I was raised by LeVar Burton to use my mind and not just my thumbs.

Today’s generation avoids books like they owe ‘em money. They skim captions but can’t comprehend consequences. You got access to the whole world in your pocket and are still stuck in the comments section.

Some of us read for fun. Some of us read for survival. And some of us? We read people like books—and most of y’all are paper-thin.

🦋 “I can go anywhere...” — but only if you learned how to fucking read.

Growth

If you are still the same person you were 5, 10, 15 years ago—thinking the same way, reacting the same way, moving through life with the same lens then you haven’t just stood still… you’ve wasted time pretending it doesn’t shape you.

Life is supposed to change us. Pain is supposed to teach. Failure is supposed to refine. Every year you should peel something away or add something deeper. If you didn't grow in the time passed and you feel untouched by it, then you’ve either been asleep at the wheel, or too afraid to confront the mirror when it started showing something uncomfortable.

Growth doesn’t always come with applause. Sometimes it comes in silence, in dark nights, in choices nobody understands but you. But if you’ve lived 5, 10, 15 years and stayed the same, you didn’t survive the time you hid from it. Personally I’d rather be bruised by growth than embalmed by stagnation.

Peace Is A Choice. Not A Weakness.

I used to live with my fists first. I was the cannon everyone feared because when I went off, there was no cleanup—just wreckage. I hurt people. Badly. And I never flinched when I did. But over time, I chose peace. Not because I got soft, not because I lost my edge—but because I finally understood the damage I could do. The chaos I carried didn’t go away… I just learned how to chain it down.

But don’t mistake calm for incapable. I don’t like to fight—not because I’m afraid to lose, but because I know I can’t. There’s no competition when you’ve been bred in violence and trained by pain. I found peace in the aftermath, but if you force my hand, I will bring the anarchy right back. And when I do, I don't come to play—I come to finish.

Crazy Memories

Me and a friend were just having a conversation about Chris and Chuck and he reminded me of the incident that happened in my room on Somerset Street one Monday night that is so vividly remembered by me that I'm going to share. 

We called it the Icebox. My bedroom. I ran the A/C like it was keeping secrets frozen. Summer, winter, spring, fall—didn’t matter. You could see your breath in there while the block boiled in its own sweat.

One Monday night, me, Chris, and Chuck were watching Raw—Triple H just hit Benoit with the pedigree, and I swear that moment was seared into my brain forever, not because of the move, but what followed.

Chris, for whatever dumb reason, had his gun out. Just messing with the hammer. Laughing. All of a sudden—

BOOM.

He shot himself in the damn foot.

I jumped like I'd just been sniped, patting myself down like I expected to find a bullet hole. Chuck had black powder on his face like he just got hit with a Looney Tunes trap. He ran. I mean bolted out of the Icebox.

My dad caught him in the hallway—“What the hell happened?” I’m like, “I’m cool, but Chris got a new breathing hole in his foot.” Meanwhile, Chris is screaming “Oh my God!” like a scratched record.

And the craziest part? My mom was in the next room and didn’t hear a damn thing. God damn I miss them two bastards.

JUDEN

The Jump I Didn’t Take

The air was sharp and white, snow blanketing the world like silence that hadn't melted yet. I was standing on a rooftop—flat, industrial, movie-set style. Below, a fresh pile of powder looked soft enough to catch a body. Maybe.

There were voices. A camera crew. A group of girls watching from the side. It felt like a dare, or a challenge. Or maybe just one of those moments where the world holds its breath to see who you really are.

Someone behind me was hyping me up. "Yo, just jump! It ain’t that high. Looks soft!" But my feet? They weren’t moving. And in the dream, time wasn’t fixed—it was on a loop, waiting for me to make a different choice. I could feel it. I wasn’t just up there—I was somewhere between the now and all the what-could’ve-beens.

I looked down again. Snow looked soft. But I’ve landed in soft things that still broke me before.

Then he came—my boy. Loud. Laughing. Calling me slow. “You’re takin’ too long, bro.” He ran past and took the leap I wouldn’t. Midair for a second, then crack—his leg folded in a way that wasn’t meant to happen. He screamed. I didn’t move.

 

In this life, I would’ve jumped without thinking. That was the old me. Prove it or die tryin’. But in the dream? I stood still.

Didn’t matter if it impressed anybody. Didn’t matter if they clowned me. I wasn’t risking everything to look fearless anymore.

I woke up sweating like I’d actually hit the ground. But I hadn’t. Because for once—I didn’t jump. And maybe that’s why I’m still here.

Chris Haley

Today would have been your 43rd birthday. And it's Father's Day too - a double hit. You BAMF; you weren't just my friend, you were my brother since we were 5 years old. The real ones know what that name stands for, and you definitely lived up to every part of it. You showed me love at a time when I didn't even care if I lived or died. I still remember them words that made me look at life a lot differently, you said to me "I know you don't believe in yourself right now, but I believe in you". That hit me in such a way that I stopped being the grown ass man child I forever was and turned shit around. It continues to stay with me. I miss you every single day, bro. Happy Heavenly Birthday. Happy Father's Day. I hope you're feeling the love up there. Amore sempre. This picture was taken a few days before that I wish I could forget day.

Fathers Day

I don’t blast my kid all over the internet, but today I gotta speak from the heart. Destiny Marie if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be here writing this. I wouldn’t be locked up either… ‘cause the truth is, nobody can cage me. I’d be dead. 💯!!

You didn’t just give me a reason to change you gave me a reason to stay alive. A heartbeat with a name. My purpose in a little pair of shoes.

Happy Father’s Day to every man who stepped up, and every woman who had to play both roles. To the ones who found their why in their child, tanto amore per te. #FathersDay

Kensington

Know vs No Updated

Know LOVE 💜 † NO loneliness 🥺

Embody love and compassion, rather than loneliness and isolation.

Know JOY 😊 † NO sadness 😢 

Choose joy and happiness, rather than sadness and despair.

Know LIGHT 💡 † NO darkness ⚫

Seek light and understanding, rather than darkness and ignorance.

Know WHOLENESS 👌🏻 † NO emptiness 😔

Cultivate wholeness and integration, rather than emptiness and disconnection.

Know NOW 🔮 † NO past 😥

Live in the present moment, rather than dwelling on the past.

Know TRUTH 😊 † NO lies 🚫

Embrace truth and authenticity, rather than lies and deception.

Know STRENGTH 💪🏻 † NO weakness 😦

Develop inner strength and resilience, rather than weakness and vulnerability.

Know 🇮🇹 SELF 🇷🇺 † NO other 🖕🏻

Focus on self-awareness and personal growth, rather than seeking external validation.

🤔

It's funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is so different.

Hey You

NO MORE CHAINS

Brokeback Billionaires

DARK

LOVE THE WAY YOU HATE ME

DMD BETWEEN

INTRODUCTION: I was born in Italy by accident, survived Kensington by luck, and became “In Between” by choice.

My name is Donald Miykhoel Di Giacomo—but everyone calls me Donny. I was born on April 9, 1982, in Luzzi, Calabria, Italy. The story behind my birth is this: my parents had flown to Italy for Christmas in 1981 to visit my father’s grandparents, especially my Nana. My mother was five and a half months pregnant with me at the time. Back then, international air travel was more lenient. What was meant to be a short trip turned into a long stay when Nana’s health declined. By the time things stabilized, my mother was nearly eight months pregnant and couldn’t fly. So Italy became my unexpected birthplace.

I’m a chef by trade—but that’s only one slice of who I am. I’ve got a soft spot for classic gangster flicks, and old cinema especially from the Golden Age of Hollywood (1930-1949). I collect toy cars the way some people collect memories—because, for me, they are memories. I’m an Aries through and through: bold, stubborn, and honest to a fault.

But above all, I’m a father. My oldest daughter, Mearea, is 23. I wasn’t there the way I should’ve been when she was young—selfishness kept me away—but I've come to know her now, and that means everything. My youngest, Destiny Marie, is 7. She’s a spark of light in a world that tested me over and over and at one point I thought was nothing but darkness. They are my anchors—my heartbeats.

I grew up in Kensington—one of the toughest neighborhoods not only in the city of Philadelphia but of that in the United States. By 17, I had already been shot three times and grazed a few more. I’ve survived two brutal motorcycle crashes—one that sent me flying, and one that left me bleeding in the street. I’ve been stabbed in the face with an ice pick. I’ve overdosed more times than I care to admit. I’ve walked through the chaos of addiction, violence, and street life and I survived. 

I lost my mother on December 31st, 2010. I lost my father on September 5th, 2019. I’ve faced enough drama and darkness to drown ten lives. And even though the world doesn’t owe me a damn thing (except maybe an apology for the bullshit), I’m still here. And I’m grateful. Because everything—the pain, the loss, the chaos—taught me something. It didn’t just break me down; it built me into the man that I am today. 

What I’ve learned from my trials and tribulations is when I was shot, it taught me to never ignore my surroundings. When I was stabbed it taught me to always stay aware. Overdosing taught me that drugs are just a slow fade into nothing. The motorcycle crashes taught me to take life one curve at a time. Losing my parents taught me that time isn’t promised and to love and appreciate those while you still can.

But I wasn’t always the man I am now. I was a shy kid once. That didn’t last long. I grew arrogant and reckless. I thought the world owed me something. I pretended to be something that I wasn’t. I craved approval, wore masks, and hid behind a false image—because I didn’t know how to love myself. I wanted to be seen, but I was afraid to be known.

Truth is, I’ve always been someone with a big heart. I feel deeply, I love fiercely, and for those that I consider to be friends I'll do anything for without question. Loyalty means everything to me. 

I'm just at a stage of my life where I appreciate every battle I’ve survived. I don’t try and hide or run from my past. I don’t glamorize it but I I'm not ashamed. It shaped me, but it doesn’t define me.

What defines me is what I self proclaim myself to be and that is an In Between. Not quite an angel. Not quite a devil. Somewhere between Heaven and Hell. I’ve brought a little hell into the world, sure. But I’ve learned how to offer a little heaven, too. Life taught me that duality is survival. That balance is power. I can move in crowds or walk alone. I enjoy people, but I don’t need them. I know who I am. And more importantly—I’ve made peace with it.

No Respect