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Search through Poetry, Satire/Humor, Music. Writing Prompts & Challenges, Writing, Rants/Commentary/Culture, Health & Everything Else.
I’ve read countless articles on Medium about “How To” make hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars on this platform each month. I appreciate and enjoy all of them.
What seems to be lacking however is the more realistic, less extravagant, and infinitely more attainable, “How to earn $1 to $5 a month on Medium” articles. Fear not my probably average, mostly overlooked, fellow coffee money writers, I’ve got you. Your worries are over and I will reveal all of my secrets.
If it sounds like I’m taking a shot at those making a killing each month writing on the same…
Writing poetry or articles, as I’ve been doing weekly (sometimes daily) here on Medium for the past year, is a lot easier than writing an entire piece about myself…but here goes!
Hi, my name is Rob Janicke. I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York but don’t have the accent to prove it. I got rid of that a long time ago. Catch me when I’m tired or after a couple of glasses of wine and it may spill out a little bit.
I’m 47-years-old, have been married since 2012, have two kids (7 and almost 5) and I’m…
With the fresh air and warm breeze of Spring comes a certain type of music that starts to rework its way back into my consciousness.
Music is energy and emotion, it creates, and even dictates mood. For me, as the calendar’s pages turn from that last chill of Winter towards something sunnier, my musical appetite changes with it.
Crunchy guitars and loud drums give way to mellow beats, softer vocals, and a lightness that signifies the start of something new. Be it Reggae, Soul, classic Pop, old-school Hip-Hop, or Ska, I begin to look for the sound of promise. …
In 2015, California punk icons, Bad Religion, announced a limited series of shows they dubbed, “Battle of the Centuries” to help them celebrate their 35th anniversary as a band.
The idea was to play back-to-back nights in the same city and split the gigs into songs from the 20th Century (1981–2000) on the first night and the 21st Century (2002–2013) on the second.
I’m a bit spoiled when it comes to seeing shows because of where I live. I’ve lived in New York my entire life. Started in Brooklyn, then to Staten Island, then to Long Island, back to Brooklyn…
April 5th, 2021, marked 27 years that Nirvana frontman, Kurt Cobain left this world.
For those born in or after the 1990s, Kurt Cobain is likely more of a myth than a man. A musical reference for terms and sounds you’ve only read about and listened to but never experienced. He’s a unicorn with a guitar.
When Cobain was found dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head on April 8th, 1994 (the medical examiner estimated his death occurred three days earlier) in his home in Seattle, Washington, the world of music was forever changed.
I was just about…
“The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else while you’re uncool.” -Lester Bangs
Sharing a love for music isn’t something done without thought, intent, or even some level of stress. We want those we share our sonic souls with to feel the same excitement and passion we feel for the music we hold so dear.
I’ve been a music nerd since I was a little kid and I proudly wear that moniker to this very day. Does it make me “uncool” in some circles? Of course it does. Do I care? …
Dear Dennis Wehirer,
You wrote a letter to me not too long ago, and I must say, I’m highly offended.
I’ll get into several examples which clearly show how off base your vitriol and criticisms were. First, though, I’d like to give you a few lines from your letter just so you can see how angry you were.
Oh, before I do that, I know your name is Deborah Weir and not Dennis Wehirer but I wanted you to feel like you’re not alone in your hatred of autocorrect.
Where was I? Oh right, your deep-seated and misplaced anger from…
Solitude and possibility, the eyesight of youth.
Churning thoughts of “what ifs” and “what nows”, turn the volume up.
They rushed you through the same wretched holes they spilled from.
A lonely thud.
Unseen by everyone, except for your failures.
The training of obedience and control flowed like the rage of countless rivers.
It was there though, it gnawed at you like a wound.
The conveyor belt never did move fast enough, zombies one and all.
With feet on the floor and your spot in the queue, entrenched and established.
Light found its way, a ray yours alone…