I get high and think out loud so you don’t have to.
Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s heavy, sometimes it’s just me chasing a thought until it breaks. No experts, no polish—just honest, unfiltered thinking in a world that really doesn’t like that.

I Proudly Present High Thoughts, Like Shower Thoughts but BETTER
Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes it’s heavy, sometimes it’s just me chasing a thought until it breaks. No experts, no polish—just honest, unfiltered thinking in a world that really doesn’t like that.

Part 3 continues Zane’s three-part series with the fallout from a friendship ending and a union meeting that left him feeling blindsided and outnumbered. He reflects on how fear can be used as a tool—both personally and politically—and what it means to choose a line you won’t cross, even when you’re furious.

Zane talks about shifting from rage to strategy: how to push for change without becoming what you’re fighting, why “neutrality” can be a mask for compliance, and how everyday people can apply pressure through community action, speaking up, and economic choices. The episode closes on a challenge: don’t let comfort become silence.

Content Warning: explicit language, political content, workplace tension, and heavy themes.

In Part 2, Zane explains what happened at work after a classroom lesson tied to a major news event—and why it pushed him further into speaking out. He discusses the frustration of feeling powerless, the pressure teachers face to stay “objective,” and how quickly politics can explode inside a school building.

The episode also dives into a painful fallout with a former best friend and coworker, leading to a union meeting where Zane feels targeted for his views. Friendship, fear, and the ethics of protest collide as the story builds toward Part 3.

In this raw, unfiltered episode, I speak out—angrily and urgently—about what I see as a turning point in American democracy. Sparked by the killing of Renee Goode and framed by memories of January 6th, I reflect on how normalized political violence, authoritarian behavior, and institutional inaction have become in the United States.

Drawing on my background in political science and history, I wrestle with fascism, white privilege, bystander responsibility, and the dangerous comfort of silence. I critique both major political parties, question blind faith in elections and institutions, and challenge listeners to stop being passive observers in moments that demand moral clarity.

This isn’t a polished take or a calm debate—it’s a frustrated, emotional reckoning with fear, anger, and the belief that democracy only survives if people are willing to make others uncomfortable to defend it. This is Part One. More to come.

In this episode, I stay in the same reflective headspace as last time—no scripted “Tony Stark logic,” just me talking through what’s been weighing on me since the season ended.

I dig into the real cost of football in my life: time, stress, and how much it quietly dictates my schedule, my energy, and even my ability to build a life outside of the sport.

I also get honest about how football has affected my dating life and friendships. When the season hits, everything else gets pushed aside—new habits, new projects, social plans, even relationships. I reflect on moments where I chose football over someone I was seeing, and how that pattern keeps repeating. It’s not just “time management.” It’s identity management—football has been the default priority for so long that I’m now questioning what happens if I remove it.

Then I shift into the hardest part: coaching frustration. I talk about the repeated cycle of incompetence, ego, and drama—being surrounded by people who talk big, make poor decisions, refuse accountability, and then act surprised when things fall apart. I recount the moments that broke my trust: unrealistic expectations, bad preparation, and losing games that should’ve been winnable because of preventable mistakes and poor coaching fundamentals.

This episode is basically me asking: Is this still worth it? Not in a dramatic way—more in a sober, realistic way. I’ve spent years believing the story would pay off, that if I stayed patient and kept grinding I’d eventually get the opportunity I’ve worked for. Now I’m confronting the possibility that I’m burning years of my life waiting for other people to hand me a chance—and that I might be done letting that happen.

In this episode, I slow things down and start doing something new: learning from myself instead of defending myself.

I open with a reflection on Tony Stark—not the superhero, but the man behind the suit—and why that character has always resonated with me. What draws me in isn’t power or spectacle, but the idea of someone who repeatedly fails, adapts, and grows. That becomes the lens for this episode: recognizing patterns, learning from mistakes, and accepting that this podcast is part of my own origin story.

From there, the episode shifts into something more personal. I talk about finally writing things down, recording with intention instead of impulse, and letting go of the need to justify why I’m doing this at all. If you’re here, it’s because you chose to be—and I’m learning that I don’t need to perform or persuade to be worth listening to.

The core of this episode is football. I start what will become an ongoing series about “my football life,” tracing how deeply the sport shaped my identity—from playing, to coaching, to organizing my entire life around the season. I walk through my early coaching years, the frustration of working under poor leadership, the chaos of youth football, and the rare moments of joy that made it all feel worth it.

But this isn’t a highlight reel. It’s about burnout, disillusionment, and the quiet realization that something that once defined me may no longer fit. I reflect on success, failure, ego, loyalty, and the emotional weight of possibly walking away from a passion I never imagined living without.

The episode closes on a metaphor from Assassin’s Creed: reaching a point where you’ve seen enough, done enough, and have to decide whether to keep chasing power—or leave it behind. This is me standing at that crossroads, thinking out loud, and inviting you along as I figure out what comes next.

In this episode, I zero in on Planet of the Apes and unpack why it unexpectedly lights up my imagination—not as a sci-fi spectacle, but as a thought experiment about human nature, power, and survival once society disappears.

I walk through the film’s setup and fixate on the questions it never asks out loud: What happens when a small group of humans is forced to restart civilization from nothing? How do hierarchy, reproduction, competition, and cooperation actually play out when there are no laws, no institutions, and no social scripts to hide behind?

From there, the episode becomes a broader meditation on primal dynamics. I explore how shifts in environment can completely reorder power, how strength and usefulness replace status and credentials, and why survival scenarios in movies and books keep pulling me in. I reference stories where modern people are dropped into lawless worlds and forced to renegotiate everything—from leadership to loyalty to intimacy.

This isn’t about shock or provocation. It’s about curiosity: what humans might really do when stripped down to instinct, scarcity, and necessity. I question whether civilization is a thin layer over something much older, and whether desire, rivalry, and attraction would reorganize themselves in ways that make us uncomfortable—but honest.

If you’re interested in films, philosophy, and raw “what if” thinking about sex, power, and survival, this episode is me following that thread wherever it leads.