Pass the Cushman: An Existential Pep Talk
As a college student, people watching indulges me in a wide variety of somber looking people in Thrasher t-shirts. Strolling through their day staring at buildings and boards with the same depth of curiosity as say, a dog staring into a mirror. The image is a little stale, right? Unfortunely, people talking yields a more depressing crop. You’re majoring in marketing? because you think it’s gonna pay well?
I think its safe to say: What the fuck happened to your dreams?
At this point, all I have done is talk some shit. I understand. But to shape you into a man it is required that I mold you from complete mush. hence the two paragraphs of shit talking.
This delirium of aiming for the middle, a strive to achieve merely safety that has so inoculated our generation from risk needs to end, and it starts with you realizing how fucking great you are.
Convincing you of this is a tall task given that most of you have the self esteem of an acne ridden 8th grader, but I implore you, please think on this.
you remember the 1600’s? the average height was 5’5”, damn near nobody could read, and most everyone’s job was some iteration of shaping clay bowls for holding grain. You think you may have been main mother-fucker back then? your goddamn right you would’ve.
But Connor, what bearing do the people of 400 years ago have to do with my confidence today? the answer. nothing. the point was to give you some perspective you inquisitive pussy, I’m building up to you just wait.
You’re not only 5’10” but you can read, write and for christ sake you shoot the three-ball pretty well in the YMCA league. I will not permit you to forget that if apply yourself You are the most cunning, physical, son of a bitch this planet has to offer.
You live in a time of unprecedented freedom and knowledge. I know it’s scary but given that, your journey through this life will require unprecedented bravery. The spoils of this world don’t fall into your lap. You don’t get to bumble around and foolishly crash into the riches you’re dreaming of, those things require work.
You have that fucking work in you. Hop to that shit.
Life isn’t a bitch, she’s a beautiful woman. And I have some wonderful news for you. that beautiful woman wants to have sex with you.
I have bad news for you. If you aren’t following thee most ideal, insane, most parent-disappointing dream you have in your head right now. you’re proverbially jerking-off into a condom while that woman terminally waits for you.
Here’s the part where I start Al Pachino Any-Given-Sunday yelling. So what do you do? what do you do today? with your morning? with your relationships? with yourself? You begin to work, you work towards the life I know you deserve. the life where you roll the dice. The life where you wade through the shit of existence so that when you are done you can honestly say that you are proud of yourself. You will leave this world kicking. Screaming. Bleeding. Biting. holding on to the chance if you work for what you love, you will achieve it.
