Hello, Internet. I’m here to give you some advice. It’s cold outside and all I feel is bitterness from people who blame life for giving them a “raw deal.” Raw like the hands of a mother after hours of washing dishes from the dinner her children left on the table, as they go off to watch television full of casserole and complaints. I’m going to tell you something shocking: it isn’t life, it’s you. You are responsible for your best and for your worst. You are capable of more than you know. You’re just lazy. I know that hurts to hear, but you’re going to have to hear it, because you’re an adult. And it’s time to act like one.
You can do anything you want, truly. As I’m typing this, I’m smoking with one hand and drinking scotch with the other. How is that even possible? I have only two hands. But that’s how good I am. I can do all of these things at once, because I believe in the power of myself.
My entire life changed when I accidentally pissed my pants. My identity changed with a slow trickle of urine that lead to an explosion that catapulted me into a new life. I took piss and made a new name for myself. So don’t come crying to me when you piss yourself. Make your piss your opportunity.
Sorry for being crass, but I’m sick of your bullshit. It’s time to wake up and let the sun scorch your eyeballs. You think this is hard? This is nothing. I peeled a dog tag, sticky with blood and melting human, from my fellow soldier’s body. Do you have any idea what that’s like? I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I am, because it’s not even me anymore. That isn’t my life. My life is new.
I essentially got fired from my job for being honest. Honesty is not valued in advertising. You meet with Hershey’s and you tell them a heartwarming story about your father buying you candy, because that’s what they want to hear. They don’t want to hear that your father hated you and died when a horse kicked him in his drunken head. They want the Hershey story. They want to see the father ruffling his son’s hair, giving him the candy, saying, “I love you, son, and I’m proud of you. Here’s a goddamn chocolate bar.” I wouldn’t do it. You tell someone you grew up in a whorehouse and suddenly you’re out of a job.
Do you think I care? Do you think this rattles me? I’ve smelled things you can’t even imagine. I may have even killed a woman with my bare hands. I can’t remember. I don’t know if it was a fever dream or if it happened, and it doesn’t matter, because it’s gone, it’s in the past, it’s in a place in my mind that I don’t acknowledge, because it has no bearing on my future self. My future self is ready.
Your future self is also ready. So don’t ignore that person you’re meant to be. You’re meant to be more than the whining meerkat you are, sitting at your desk, frowning as you go down a mental list of all the things life owes you. Life owes you nothing. We’re all going to die one day. This isn’t what you want. When you realize that, your life will change. I’ve seen it happen. When it happens, you’ll cry, and you’ll laugh, and you’ll smile, and you’ll thank me. Because I’m always right, even when I’m not.
Sally, go to bed.
I’ll see you in California.