Man, my life needs a readjustment. I mean seriously, why do I get up in the morning? Serious, reader, what’s the point of having this repetitive job, this condo, building a future with a backyard and 2.3 children?
I don’t want safe. I don’t want a backyard. I want adventure.
I want to eat breakfast at 2:30pm in a diner where the waitresses personality is as lukewarm as her coffee. But Starla, the waitress, would call me Sugar, and I would tell her my story. Day in day out. That’s living, right?
I want to stand on the edge of a visually appealing background and have my personal photographer take recurring pics of me as I travel around in the same mountain range over and over. And over. It will be different each time, but the same.
I want it all baby.
I want to earn my money honestly and sell things with a huge grandiose smile. These man-tights are the best things I ever used, they go with everything and all of my lower body feels free as a bird, but it also gives me the support I need to go for urban hikes.
I do urban hiking, so what?
I would have a significant other that can never find his or her pants. And is always arching his or her back when I get the old iPhone out. You would never see his or her face not because they don’t have one, but because I want you to live what I live. To feel what I feel.
I’ll be happy. I’ll make a difference. I’ll make my dad proud.
I’ll influence a generation.