Give a fuck about your life for once…
In order for real change to manifest in your life, you must be wrong about something. Otherwise where will change occur if you are always right and perfect on every little or bigger thing. Even if you are a so-called perfectionist like myself; which is why I revise and edit everything I write, both here and in university a thousand plus times.
Without no pain there is no change…
The problem lies in the fact self-awareness or feedback from trusted individuals is more often than not painful. But if we refuse to discover this pain or reason for change and continue to blindfold ourselves then everything about us will remain the same.
Time to strip it all off and get buck-naked…(get your mind out of the gutter now and turn off that porn for once, there’s other stuff to watch or read on the net)
Finally you must be confortable in your own sunburned skin. You must get to know the real you and what makes your happy or sad ass click. Maybe you are moody, irrational, bitchy, eccentric, or otherwise different (as I’d say eclectic or indie).
If your true friends don’t love you for who the fuck you really are then find some other friends who do give a fuck. Just stay away from the ones who steal too many fucks away from you, including your Benjamins or George Washingtons for the majority of us poor grad school saps.
Box of Kleenex Pleeeease…
The god honest truth is I am still searching for love. And like most forty-something men my age with varied sexual relationships and consumer loan and credit debt…I guess I’m just seeking some fucking mindless escape from reality. One of the reasons for my indiscriminate sex since at this point I can’t extend my dick by purchasing a Porsche or Hog like most midlife crisers.
I’ve got that U-2 song on replay every freaking day. And I still haven’t found what I have been searching for (but I sure know what the hell I lost and the women who have since vanished since my colleges daze.)
I’m hoping for a Hollywood fantasy, however more like the NC-17 rated version but with more intense mature romantic scenes. Like what Jerry did for Dorothy in the movie Jerry Maguire, but without all that corporate success and arrogance talk as he did before the girl told him just to shut the fuck up.
Here is the shortened dialogue from one of my all time best romantic movies. It still makes me tear up like a little sorority bitch everytime I watch this scene.
Jerry: I love you. You–complete me. And I just had–
Dorothy: Shut up. Just shut up.
You had me at hello. You had me at hello.
(Now here’s where I’m bawling my eyes out like a little school girl whose just been dumped.)
Damn the Queen of Hearts…
Because that’s just me. I’m still hung up on this girl who stabbed me in the heart then punched me in the ballsack. I guess my inner wild child loved this since many of my relationships went out with a bang or a swift kick in the nuts. Call me sadistic but maybe I craved this need for both pleasure and pain.
Anyone who can relate will know you can only get up once you get knocked down and try things a little different the next time. This is change in the real world and sometimes it may require all the spare change you’ve got in between the seat cushions of that couch you’re having indiscriminate sex on right now.
Don’t lie or else you are going straight to celibate hell.
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“Don’t take life too fucking serious, because we all must just let our hair down and all our clothes fall off every now and then.”