ANGEL

🇩.🇴.🇦 𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕗𝕣𝕠𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕖 💀 ℝ𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕠𝕣 𝔻𝕚𝕖 | 𝔽𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕠𝕨 𝕄𝕖 ☟ https://linktr.ee/diaryofanoutlaw

[diaryofanoutlaw]

THE TAO OF COMMON SENSE

I’m thinking about starting a new religion called The Tao of Common Sense.

I’m half-joking, but honestly, it’s already the only thing that makes sense.

For decades now, a lot of us have been sitting back rolling our eyes, completely exhausted by the noise. We’ve always known politics was untrustworthy, that most conspiracy theories end up being true nine times out of ten, and that loud, whiny people ruin every damn party they walk into—let alone our entire society.

So in this religion, totally ridiculous shit is immediately banned at the door.

Men are not playing in women’s sports, and they aren’t in their bathrooms. Period. That’s not a debate; that’s basic anatomy and basic respect.

Whiny, fragile people aren't allowed to use cancel culture to censor the truth just because their feelings got hurt. Their dumbass viewpoints won't be allowed to rile up a mob of weak, lame-ass people into a frenzy anymore.

The mainstream media? Not allowed. They don't even get a seat at the table.

And nepobabies who grew up on daddy's money are permanently banned from ever using the terms "I did it on my own" or "I'm independent." You didn't build shit. Daddy bought the tools. Own it or sit down.

The Tao of Common Sense isn't complicated. Society didn't get smarter with all this modern technology and over-analyzing—it just got softer, louder, and dumber.

Common sense used to be the default setting. It meant you minded your own business, protected women and kids, worked for what you earned, and called bullshit when somebody tried to hand you a plate of it and tell you it was steak.

Now, common sense feels like a superpower.

We don't need another podcast, another politician, or another self-help guru telling us how to live. We just need to stop letting the weakest, loudest people in the room drive the bus.

Keep it simple. Protect what’s real. Call out the fake. Work hard. Speak the truth.

Welcome to the Tao.

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[diaryofanoutlaw]

[diaryofanoutlaw]

[diaryofanoutlaw]

[diaryofanoutlaw]

I don't just talk about a code-l live it.

What I post here isn't performative. I've worked hard for years-without production teams or corporate fluff—to make sure what you see reflects who I actually am and what I stand for. I do this because I believe it's the path laid out for me, and as a man focused on helping others rather than feeding an ego, a soldier marches on.

To the men following this page: being a man of character in today's world means controlling your primal impulses. Stop playing into games and chasing empty validation.

Respecting your future partner starts today

—long before you even meet her. Every choice, every action. The same way you work on your career, your finances, and your body, you need to work on your spirit and your integrity.

Whether I am with somene or not, l prepare every single day to be the right man. I live so clean that I can hand over my phone at any second without hesitation.

Wouldn't you rather stand tall, show a real woman you had your life together before she arrived, and walk with total self-respect? You have the power to be the man you want to be today. Don't surrender it.

Claim it.

[diaryofanoutlaw]

[diaryofanoutlaw]

Due to the high volume of material I hand create vs. time “sometimes” my electronics a is LITERALLY SATAN. More proof this ain’t AI 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣Here is the correct version 💪

[diaryofanoutlaw]

I MISS WHEN PEOPLE WERE HARD TO REPLACE

If you were to ask me what is the point to what I am doing with all of this, I literally could not tell you. I have no career goal or ulterior motive, to be honest—my life changed when I felt called back by a higher power to do whatever this is, so I guess I’m just on autopilot for GOD. Whatever happens and whomever it touches, that is literally the Master Architect's work at play in our lives at this point.

I don’t think people changed overnight. I think convenience did. Somewhere along the way, everything became disposable. Phones. Clothes. Furniture. Cars. Then, without realizing it… we started treating people the same way.

Don’t like your job? Quit. Don’t like your town? Leave. Don’t like your marriage? Replace it. Don’t like your friends? Find new ones.

We became experts at starting over and amateurs at holding on.

Maybe that’s why the old things still fascinate me. An old pickup truck. A worn leather jacket. A carpenter’s hands. A wedding ring that’s been through fifty years instead of fifty months. Those things have scratches. Scars. Stories. They weren’t replaced. They were repaired.

I think people deserve that same kind of patience. Not every disagreement needs a goodbye. Not every flaw deserves abandonment. Not every storm means the house should be torn down. Some things become more valuable because they’ve survived.

The people I admire most were never the loudest. They were the ones who stayed. The husband who kept showing up. The wife who never stopped believing. The friend who answered the phone at two in the morning. The old mechanic who still remembered your name. The neighbor who shoveled your driveway before you even woke up. Those people weren’t perfect. They were present.

We’ve spent years chasing better. Maybe what we’ve really been missing is longer. Longer friendships. Longer conversations. Longer marriages. Longer memories. Longer grace.

The truth is… the people who shaped my life were never famous. Most of them will never be remembered by history. But they’ll always be remembered by me.

And maybe that’s what a meaningful life really is. Not being known by millions. Being impossible to replace by the few who truly knew you.

That’s the kind of man I hope to become. Not perfect. Not popular. Just the kind of person whose absence leaves a space that love—not convenience—once filled.

Because I miss when people were hard to replace. Maybe the world does too.

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[diaryofanoutlaw]

[diaryofanoutlaw]

THE COST OF RIDE-OR-DIE, AND WHAT IT ACTUALLY MEANS TO LOVE

If you haven’t noticed, idolatry and I do not get along very well.

False prophets seeking attention—preaching religion, self-help, or economics from some nepotism-baby reality while hiding porn on their hard drives, doing drugs, insider trading, and pretending to be superheroes for self-achievement—is one of my biggest pet peeves. Those people and I don’t play well in the sandbox.

I will never be a politician. I will never be a religious leader. I will never fit in. That doesn’t mean I’m more qualified than any of them, but if I stand for something beyond my music and my writing, I won't be clamoring online. You’ll just see me like Braveheart, up in people's faces, causing shit right alongside the soldiers of faith who actually fight for people instead of using them.

Long before the internet or self-evaluating videos existed, I was always a peculiar type. For a partner, I imagine that’s a very attractive quality at first. But as you move forward in life, constantly standing up for what is right puts you at odds with family, friends, and whatever community surrounds you if they aren’t flying right. That puts massive strain on a relationship.

The funny thing was, my wife loved me for who I was—not what I was, and not what I pretended to be. We fought side-by-side against the world just to exist. And trust me, it was a daily tidal wave, even from the people you were supposed to be able to trust and love the most.

Influencers, religious leaders, and family members have a million theories on love and who you should be in this world. Movies and television romanticize the "ride-or-die, us-against-the-world" mentality, and people love the idea of it throughout history. But I have actually lived that life. There are very few people who would attempt it, let alone survive it.

So I speak to you now in the face of a modern society that tries to destroy everything good in favor of everything selfish. The biggest crime in the world today is that people don’t shut the fuck up, mind their own business, and let other people live their lives.

Jealousy and envy aren't just two of the seven deadly biblical sins—they are deeply ingrained in human nature. Or, to define it for the new-age existential romantics: it’s your ego at work.

So I ask you: what skin off your dick is it if another person is happy? If another person is successful? If another person pursues what they want? If it does not harm you or hurt your community, why do you care?

When it comes to deeply committed relationships—what people call "ride-or-die"—here is the truth: Everybody wants it, but very few can pay the cost. It requires the two things that break most modern people: time and patience.

No one should be allowed to mandate who, when, or why you love someone (unless it’s a abusive one-way street, which isn't love at all). The fact of the matter is, finding a true ride-or-die is incredibly rare.

Allow me to give a little insight to millennials and the generations coming up behind them on how your lives are going to play out: All this "self-work" where you live isolated, self-centered lives in a bubble that doesn't allow others in... when your looks fade, you get older, and the world quiets down, you will follow the exact same path as the Baby Boomers and Gen X before you. You will either finally break, accept a partner, and live with deep internal regret that you didn't open your heart sooner—or you will end up completely alone. Like the old man who still keeps his house pristine for the wife who passed away, or the 80-year-old woman alone at the grocery store missing her partner.

Modern society has become like a toxic best friend sitting in your ear, talking shit about your partner. They don't do it out of concern; they do it because they have nobody. And when a ship is sinking and people are drowning, they will grab onto anyone just to bring them down with them.

There is a steep price to be paid for a ride-or-die relationship. People always make it out to be purely romantic, but in reality, that person is your absolute best friend. That is why a world that has never experienced this type of love cannot comprehend it.

Your best friend wouldn't cheat on you, steal from you, or fuck you over. That doesn't mean they don't make mistakes, but a true best friend—the kind who would ride to Hell and burn right beside you because they know your character—isn't waiting to see how much shit you buy them on Valentine's Day or what fancy trips you take so you can post pictures on social media.

That superficial mindset is why people don't understand it. As 1 Corinthians 13 says, love is not boastful, does not envy, and is dependable when everything goes to hell.

Decades ago, back when I was still an atheist, that exact Bible passage was the reason I hand-tattooed those words onto my own ribcage. Maybe for me, that physical mark was the very beginning of my journey toward God.

You can sit there as a society, a preacher, or a motivational speaker and talk about God, investing, or doing 12 curls three times a day to build the biggest arms on earth. But all the gurus, money, and education in the world cannot teach your soul how to truly love. They can offer psychological hints and guidance, but it has to come from you, your soul, and God to find that love within yourself first before you can ride with someone, be willing to die for them, and more importantly—live for them.

I may have given my wife a run for her money during her short and beautiful life. But when she passed, I will tell you this: The "enigma" to society that I am—the man who earned that outlaw nickname—stood completely solid while everyone else acted like children. I stood like a rock in the storm and slapped down the evil that tried to blemish her name.

Not only was that the exact moment I knew her eternal soul finally realized she had chosen the right guy, but to this very day, it is the single thing I am most proud of in my entire life. It is the reason I can stand before you today and tell you what it actually means to ride with someone, and to love them in a way that God would be proud of until the day they die.

Amen.

[diaryofanoutlaw]

A REAL MAN KNOWS TO BE GENUINELY HAPPY FOR OTHER PEOPLES SUCCESS

[diaryofanoutlaw]

OUTSIDE THE POWER BUTTON

To start this writing, I should probably tell you something about myself. I’m a solitary outlaw by nature. Not because I hate people. Because life has a funny way of teaching you the cost of trusting the wrong ones. So these days I don’t chase crowds, attention, or friendships built to feed my ego. I prefer something much simpler. Meeting people. Listening. Learning. Between men, there’s something about a firm handshake and genuine respect that reminds you the world isn’t as broken as the internet wants you to believe.

This morning, after donating plasma, I stopped at one of my favorite little country parks to film a quick video. Nothing special. Just another morning. As I walked back toward my truck, I noticed a man throwing a ball for his dog. We exchanged the usual “good morning.” That turned into a conversation. Old-school values. Carpentry. Forty years of working with his hands. Stories from all over America. One conversation became another until somewhere along the way two strangers weren’t strangers anymore.

When we finally shook hands and went our separate ways, I realized something. Social media keeps telling us human connection is disappearing. Maybe it is. But it isn’t because people stopped being interesting. It’s because we stopped looking up.

I know I’m different. When I meet people, I usually listen more than I talk. Some probably think I’m weird. Truth is… I genuinely want to know who they’re becoming. Everybody has a story. Most people are just waiting for someone to care enough to hear it. That’s something your phone can never replace. Not a text. Not a comment. Not a thousand followers. A real conversation. A real laugh. A real handshake. A moment where another human being lets their guard down just long enough to remind you we’re all carrying something.

Today reminded me that the world isn’t the algorithm. It isn’t the outrage. It isn’t the politicians. It isn’t the influencers pretending life is perfect. The real world is still full of ordinary people buying overpriced groceries, paying too much for gas, working jobs they don’t always love, trying their best to build a decent life. Those are my people. And had I stayed home… Had I spent another morning staring at another screen… I never would’ve met him. I never would’ve heard his story. And my life would’ve been just a little bit smaller because of it.

People think life is built from the big moments. I don’t. I think life is built from thousands of little ones exactly like this. The truck that got me there… The gas in the tank… The phone in my pocket… Those are just tools. And tools don’t create a life. They simply help you reach the places where life is waiting. Today, life was waiting in a quiet little park… Standing beside a dog with a tennis ball.

Sometimes the richest part of your day isn’t what you accomplished. It’s who you met. So if you’re reading this… Put the phone down once in a while. Go shake somebody’s hand. You might walk away with something no app on earth can ever give you. Another reminder… That we’re all a little less alone than we think.

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[diaryofanoutlaw]

A REAL MAN IS NOT WEAK and LUSTFUL.

[diaryofanoutlaw]

KIDS

I should probably warn you before you read this.

You might want a box of Kleenex nearby.

Kids.

We’ve all been one.

Some of us have one.

And a few of us never really stop acting like one.

Besides being born and one day dying, being a kid is the one thing every human being on this planet has in common.

Some people remember childhood as magic.

Others spend the rest of their lives trying to forget it.

The more I listen to people, the more convinced I become that most of the pain adults carry didn’t begin when they became adults.

It began when they were kids.

A few days ago I released a song called Pickup Trucks and Country Girls.

Most people hear a fun, windows-down, summertime anthem.

They hear old trucks, country roads, and a chorus made to sing at the top of your lungs.

They’re right.

But they’re also missing the real story.

I wrote that song for my daughter.

She’s grown into one of those rare human beings that makes you quietly thank God when nobody’s looking.

She’s smart.

She’s kind.

She wears Carhartt, loves horses, feeds chickens, and would probably choose an old pickup over something shiny any day of the week.

She’s exactly who she was meant to become.

The strange part is…

There was a time when people said she never would.

When she was little, they wanted to label her.

They wanted to medicate her.

They wanted to convince us she wasn’t capable of becoming much.

Hearing those words hit me harder than they’ll ever understand.

Because decades earlier…

They said the same thing about me.

Back then they didn’t sugarcoat it.

They literally called me retarded.

They said I was developmentally disabled.

They said I had ADD.

They put me in the trailer classrooms behind the elementary school, and more often than not, forgot about me.

I can still picture that little boy.

Sitting alone.

Writing poems.

Writing songs.

Trying to make sense of a world that had already decided who he was before he’d even had a chance to discover it himself.

Thank God for two teachers who looked past the labels.

Thank God for parents who refused to let the world medicate away the kid they believed in.

They gave me something no report card ever could.

A chance.

Looking back now, I don’t hate those years.

As painful as they were, they taught me something I never forgot.

Never let another human being tell a child what they’re worth.

Children aren’t unfinished adults.

They’re unique souls.

They don’t need someone to shrink their future to fit today’s opinion.

They need someone willing to believe in them until they’re strong enough to believe in themselves.

Maybe that’s why I wrote the song.

Not to chase a hit.

Not to climb a chart.

Not because country music needed another summer anthem.

I wrote it because sometimes men like me aren’t very good at saying, “I love you.”

We were raised to provide.

To protect.

To keep moving.

Sometimes we spent so much time trying to build a life for our kids that we forgot to slow down long enough to tell them what they meant to us.

So I hid it inside a song.

Every time I sing…

“The skies are blue… pickup trucks and country girls…”

I’m really saying something else.

I’m saying…

Thank you for becoming exactly who you are.

Thank you for proving the world wrong.

Thank you for reminding me that God doesn’t make mistakes—people do.

And if one day I’m gone…

If all that’s left are a few songs and some stories…

I hope you know there was never a single day I wasn’t proud to call you my daughter.

Not because of what you accomplished.

Not because of what you became.

But because you were always…

You.

If you’re reading this and you’re raising a kid…

Believe in them.

If you’re the kid who was told you’d never amount to anything…

Don’t spend your life trying to prove them wrong.

Spend it proving God right.

Because sometimes the child everyone overlooked…

Grows up to change the world.

Amen.

[diaryofanoutlaw]

A REAL MAN KNOWS IF IT'S NOT RIGHT DON'T DO IT

IF IT'S NOT TRUE DON'T SAY AND IF IT'S NOT YOURS DON'T TAKE IT

[diaryofanoutlaw]

[diaryofanoutlaw]

YOU CAN’T BUILD A REAL WOMAN ON A FAKE MAN

Everybody seems obsessed with finding a “real woman.”

Faithful.

Loyal.

Kind.

Supportive.

The kind who’ll stand beside you when life gets ugly instead of running the first time it rains.

I understand that.

I want that too.

But somewhere along the way I realized something that wasn’t nearly as comfortable.

You can’t build a real woman on a fake man.

You can’t ask someone to trust a man who lies.

You can’t expect loyalty while you’re entertaining options.

You can’t demand respect when your actions don’t deserve it.

And you can’t expect peace from a relationship if you bring chaos through the front door every night.

A man’s greatest responsibility isn’t finding the right woman.

It’s becoming the right man.

Not perfect.

Just honest.

A man who keeps his word even when nobody’s watching.

A man who admits when he’s wrong.

A man who protects instead of controls.

A man who works when he’s tired.

A man who loves without making someone earn basic human decency.

The funny thing about life is that character attracts character.

Not every time.

But far more often than people want to admit.

The strongest relationships I’ve ever witnessed weren’t built on butterflies or perfect chemistry.

They were built on two imperfect people who refused to stop choosing each other.

Real love isn’t a performance.

It’s a foundation.

Brick by brick.

Choice by choice.

Day by day.

So before you spend another year asking where all the good women went…

Walk into the bathroom.

Look in the mirror.

And ask yourself a harder question.

If the woman you’ve been praying for finally walked into your life today…

Would the man looking back at you deserve her?

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