And I Know…

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One of the best features of Esquire magazine is their popular “What I’ve Learned” series.

If you’re unfamiliar with it, go here and read up. You can gain a lot of wisdom depending on the interview you’re reading.

I wanted to take a stab at doing my own so here I go:

I stole this idea from Jason. He who blogs at Basement Elevation. I know swagger jacking is wrong, but it was too good an idea to pass up. After you read mine, go read his.

I don’t see myself as the best writer. I think I have talent and potential, but I feel it’s my perspective on things that separates me from other people, not necessarily any particular gift at prose.

I can’t see myself doing anything else but writing. This has spurred frustration from people who always looked to me to become a lawyer, a politician, or some other prestigious profession. Thank God it’s my life and not theirs.

I know that as outgoing and social as I am, there’s still a very shy and awkward quality to me. I’m kind of crazy, but in a way that doesn’t warrant a prescription. I’ve come to appreciate that.

I’d rather be considered weird than boring.

Cynicism is what happens to closet idealists who can’t take disappointment anymore.

Humor is the perfect coping mechanism.

Honesty isn’t nearly as popular as people pretend it to be. Liars have it way too easy.

The word sheep can perfectly describe the majority of the population. That and a yawn.

I wish people would stop equating going to church every week with being a good person. One is not a prerequisite for the other. I shouldn’t have to constantly explain why I’m not Satan in slimmer packaging because I’m no longer a regular church goer to people who don’t know very much about their own faith anyway.

God is with me even if everyone else isn’t.

Is there a point in not speaking your mind? If there is, please never share it with me.

I’ve found that whenever I plan something out for my life it never goes the way I intended it to. Never. It may behoove me to finally start planning in generalities to give myself leeway. Or maybe I should stop trying to plan everything altogether.

I try not to have any regrets, though I still secretly carry a few with me.

Letting go is a concept I’ve yet to master. To my own detriment.

Marriage is probably not going to happen for me. That’s fine. Living in sin sounds more fun anyway.

My nieces make me smile. They are living proof that cycles can be broken.

Listen to your gut. Living by fear will do nothing but lead you to becoming a loser bitch.

I won’t be satisfied until I helped facilitate real change.

I know I am meant for something great. I’m just not sure how long it will take me to get there. Here’s to hoping not much longer. I’m hella impatient.

Edit: I am a damn good writer and I was rude to prescriptions. Sorry, I had to update. — Me, 03.10.12

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