In a Perfect World

In a perfect world, I’d give a shit about our Retarded president and the hurt he’s caused. I protest my thoughts on Twitter and join the fight.

In a perfect world, I would go out for drinks when my co-workers ask me too. I wouldn’t make up an excuse and go write at Starbucks alone.

In a perfect world, I would acknowledge the pleas of homeless. I wouldn’t pretend I that I don’t have any change. Or ignore a man who has blood running from his eyes.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have to get into crushing debt to learn how to place lines on a computer screen.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t watch the woman sneak her wedding ring off as I order another drink. And the next morning, we wouldn’t lie to each other saying that “we’ll totally do this again sometime”.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t get sad watching all the empty eyes berried in their phones on the train. It wouldn’t break my heart to see all the endless scrolling, just for a little hit of stimulus.

In a perfect world, I wouldn’t have felt nothing when I was called a Racist, Bigot, Nazi, white trash, nigger lover, faggot, ignorant, or any other hateful slang.

But unfortunately, I live in this one,

where the hardest part is looking at yourself in the mirror everyday.

Well Shit….

You spend the first 5 years feeling shit around you

While the next 5, you spend getting told about all the cool shit out there.

So you spend the next 10 years daydreaming about all the shit you want.

Then you spend the next 10 years figuring out how to get the shit you want

Which makes you spend the next 10 years upset that the shit didn’t make you happy

That forces you to spend the next 10 years even more upset because now the shit you’re made up of, stops working.

So you spend the next 10 years taking care of some of the shit and giving the rest of your shit away.

Then finally, you spend the last of your days upset about the shit you didn’t do.

 

However if you’re smart,

and very wise,

you’ll figure out there is nothing better,

than just appreciating the beauty

in all the shit around you,

simply the way it is.

And accepting that all this other shit you’ve been told,

is simply

just

fucking

shit.

The Hard Part

Everything is in front of you.

It always has been.

Getting promoted

Getting 100k followers on Instagram

The satisfaction of seeing your son’s first A on a Math test

Being a better Christian

Being a Better Atheist

Meeting that girl across the crowed bar

Meeting the guy reading on the train

Owning a Ferrari

Getting a book published

Traveling to Europe

Making new friends

Getting promoted

Starting your business

Being featured on Kayne West’s new album

losing 50lbs

Being more productive

Becoming a vegan

 

All this and more, is real

Regardless of what anyone tells you.

They are real

and obtainable as a gallon of milk.

It’s Easy,

But you got to break the goals down into bite sized pieces

And attack them

everyday.

 

That’s the hard part.

My Dad is a Passive Aggressive Asshole

No story.

Just a title,

or rather a statement.

About my loving father

Who has to always leave these bread crumbs

instead of being honest.

It drives me fucking crazy.

 

So, I’ll walk to the coffee shop to get my mind off it.

“What are you having?”

“Iced Coffee”

“In a light roast or dark roast?”

“I don’t really care either way”

I lied, I hate dark roast.

I drank two sips and threw it away.

God I love my parents.