Fours years of high school, eight semesters of English:
B
D+
F
F
F
F
D
D+
Summer school and night classes brought those Fs up to passing. Barely.
Yet, my arrogant ass thinks I can write a thing and people will read it.
At least seven of you are reading this. I take that as a fucking win.
My point is simple: do the fucking thing you’re too afraid to try.
Don’t ignore that voice in your head; make it your bitch.
When that voice in your head starts to riddle you with doubt stop whatever it is you are doing and say, go fuck yourself. Sure, people will back away from you, but you’ll also feel better.
Believe in yourself.
If the the people in your life don’t believe in you, that’s okay. Don’t be a butthurt pussy about it. Just get on with doing your thing and they will come around.
You will be pleasantly surprised at who ends up being your loudest cheerleader.
When I was in HS I fell in love with Eric Clapton.
I was 19 when the movie Rush came out so I drove to Tower Records and bought the cassette because EC did the soundtrack. On the way home I got a flat. I pulled over, left it cranked and ended up a collapsed mess on the side of the road when Tears In Heaven came on.
Nineteen was a brutal fucking year for me.
Clapton carried me through a lot of it.
Titty sprinkles!
