Call the cops. I don't give a fuck.

Stop fucking off.

Obviously, originality is dead. But sharing is caring.

So, stop fucking off.

Life is what you make it to be. There is no planned destiny. Sometimes, you just have to do what you have to do.
Life is not in fact destined. You make it what you want it to be.

STOP FUCKING OFF.

Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs is people who are alive.

STOP. FUCKING. OFF.

Those who want to live, let them fight, and those who do not want to fight in this world of eternal struggle do not deserve to live.

Stop fucking off.

The infinite possibilities each day holds should stagger the mind. The sheer number of experiences I could have is uncountable, breathtaking, and I'm sitting here refreshing my inbox. We live trapped in loops, reliving a few days over and over, and we envision only a handful of paths laid out ahead of us. We see the same things each day, we respond the same way, we think the same thoughts, each day a slight variation on the last, every moment smoothly following the gentle curves of societal norms. We act like if we just get through today, tomorrow our dreams will come back to us.
And no, I don't have all the answers. I don't know how to jolt myself into seeing what each moment could become. But I do know one thing: The solution does not involve watering down my every little idea and creative impulse for the sake of some day easing my fit into a mold. It does not involve tempering my life to better fit someone's expectations. It does not involve constantly holding back for fear of shaking things up. This is very important, so I want to say it as clearly as I can:

Fuck.
That.
Shit.



ohfuckicantswim.