The American Dream.

The American Dream is a fucking joke.

Get a college degree, get a salaried job, get married, have children, pay your taxes, watch the telly, listen to the news, obey the law. Follow societal trends. Travel the safe path. Sweep real pain under the rug. Share with your classmates that you want to be a corporate tax attorney when you grow up before you have outgrown diapers, says your kindergarten teacher. Live in a fucking straight jacket 2000+ hours a year. Read illogical books awash with “golden nuggets” of knowledge. Eat fast food full of artificial flavors induced by various processing techniques to maximize the odds of repetitive purchase and minimul cost. Figure out what you are passionate about, pursue it relentlessly and become a successful middle-class citizen.

Bull Fucking Shit.

Scattered between your roaring left and raging right ear are inessential flying fucks bouncing off the walls of your cranium and an echo of incessant dissonance gradually driving you bat-shit crazy.  You cozily curl up in egyptian cotton sheets while puerile children sleep off their relentless morning labor in fields of reeking dirt. You ludicrously soak up rotten lies loudmouthed bimbos feed you on a daily basis as the toxic, musky scent of synthetic patchouli rises from your cracked clay incense burner. Day after day, month after month, you spend 40-80 hours a week eating your satanic bosses crooked heart out and having telephone conversations with antagonistic assholes seeking a coupon for a product that is overpriced and valueless. You fill the pockets of maniacal shareholders and CEO’s who don’t give a flying fuck if you get shot as you walk out of their colorless office as long as they hit their annual bonus. You flush your entire life down the toilet and sacrifice your true aspirations until your back hurts like hell and your liver has become severely damaged from regularly drinking away your pain. You cannot recall what you spent your precious time on every single day for 40 years while you stare down the barrel of a gun and say a prayer rather than take decisive action.


I want to fucking shake most of you. Nobody has the right to tell you what you should or should not do. Quit offloading your responsibility onto society or organized religion. Life is always changing. It baffles me to think about the life I have lived and where I am today. If you truly know the story of my opprobrious adolescence, then you know I was deep in the pits of living hell and surely not nominated for the infamous “Most Likely to Succeed” mock award in high school. But……guess what, dear dreamers? Life changes in the blink of an eye and you absolutely do not have to have “it all” figured out by any certain age to achieve what society has led you to believe equates to success. Who in the world is to say that passion is unremittingly constant anyway?

My passion tomorrow may not be what it is today. I have no fucking clue what I want to do with my life. Who the fuck does have “it all” figured out? I do not have one true calling. I know nothing. I have multipotentialties that develop, change, shift and mature as I have become acquainted with what I have of my freedom (the NSA is watching) and the fact that I am in charge of taking matters into my own hands. I am original, unique, innovative, endlessly curious and unceasingly changing. The wretched idea that you’re supposed to commit slow identity suicide and slave out years of living this grandiose, dogmatic idea of success that society has shoved down your throat makes me sick to my fucking stomach. Two-faced holy life coaches and gurus leading individuals to prozac addictions while expecting them to set definitions for every decade of their life can shove all of their cheesy, “inspirational” horse-shit up their saintly asses. You are solely responsible for creating your own meaningful and authentically rich life.

Do whatever the fuck you want with your life. Seek out the remaining wild pandas living in the Qinling mountains. Sit on a bus with no destination in mind. Drink a bottle of sparkly wine for breakfast. Ride over The Fairy Chimneys in Cappadocia. Skydive and soar over the Victoria Falls in Zambia. Apply for a visa for an exotic country and live abroad. Know your rights, stand up for yourself and verbally challenge a puffed up police officer. Convert a van into a traveling home and adventure across the country.



Fuck up.

Don’t give a rats ass what other people think. Be realistic. Don’t take any shit. Do not avoid reality. Tell the truth. Stop making fucking excuses. Balance; do not spin out of control. Practice extreme self-care. Crawl through a long tunnel of darkness. Tell me to shut the fuck up and think for yourself. Drop a logic bomb on a consumerist’s ass. Don’t fake a smile. Keep it gritty, real and raw. Take your life off of cruise control. Get out of your comfort zone. You will die. The game is over when your buzzer beeps.


Do not conform to the expectations of society.

Get off your lazy ass and ignite your inner badass. 

2 thoughts on “The American Dream.

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