Failure II

First, a quick aside - the first time I wrote a blog post entitled failure, the result was pitiful and hilarious.

Happiness is pretty great, and I would strongly recommend it to each and every one of you. In what has been described by critics as my first meaningful foray into this particular emotion, I feel like I have found my stride pretty quickly, whistling down the street and smiling at strangers as if I’d been doing this shit my whole life. Despite my desire to maintain my mood’s upwards trajectory, I can already feel myself veering dangerously towards the dreaded comfort zone, and I am acutely aware now is the brief moment of time in which I am able to swerve the car and avoid going in the ditch.

It is imperative to jam pack as much failure into my imminent future as possible, and not to self-regulate back towards my median emotional state; because failure is vital to me having any of the successes I crave, and now is the time when I can actually cope with multiple setbacks in quick succession. I have a unique opportunity to fail this time as well - I can fail alone. Previously I always defer to my friends, get their advice on what course of action would be best, ask my parents what career moves I should make, my buddies with girlfriends what words in what order to say to the cute girl I know. That’s all very well and good, but it limits my capacity to spectacularly fuck up significantly, which can only be a bad thing.

So from now, I’m not even going to ask your advice. I’m just going to do it, even though I know there’s a strong chance that it’s a no good, bad bad bad, exceptionally, painfully terrible idea. Because that way, I think I’ll actually learn something from my mistakes, and maybe there’ll be a fun story or two to come out of it as well.