One day you will indiscriminately hire a co-worker from a shit job to help with something in your dream job. This will be somebody you worked at least 3 months with. Y’all only exchanged hellos and goodbyes. But now, the words y’all are putting in-between is over lunch, over fulfilling projects, even over each other houses. Y’all aren’t just co-workers anymore. Y’all are best friends in real life. One day they will ask you, “Why didn’t we do stuff like this before?” And you will say, “It wasn’t personal. It was strictly business. Even the steady conflicts. Had I didn’t practice selective mutism at that shit job and engaged in small talk to make time go by quicker I would’ve been 65 before I knew it and there for 25 years with my own parking space. I wanted slow time. I didn’t want to have fun. I wanted to feel like SpongeBob in that episode where he was trying to make time go faster and did all this stuff and only 1 minute had pass. I wanted to feel every damn second of my 8 hour shift. I wanted my entrepreneurial spirit to suffer. I knew it was strong enough to not get crushed. I don’t know what happened in my dreams that night, but one morning I woke up and said FUCK THIS … now here we are!”
I know taxes is seasonal but quit your job. Don’t play it safe! Focus on doing taxes. This been 3 years in the making! Make as much money as you can. Save. Keep your goal in mind. Your next employer should be Google/YouTube.
It’s the year 2014 for you. And you haven’t experienced true love as of yet. In my time it’s 2041, and you have. Between your present time and my future time you have broken hearts … and had yours broken. You know I’m strategic, and being this is my first letter to you in months, I know you deduced your first love is imminent. It is. Deeper thinking would also suggest which side of the fence you will be standing on. Reasoning would say since you know the outcome, when you meet her avoid subsequent encounters. You can do that. But it’s STILL gone happen. Unless, of course, you are inwardly detached and don’t give the relationship your all in fear of the pain of heartbreak. That’s not the way to live. This letter will protect your child-like spirit from the rigidness of the adult world. Okay. I want you to picture your dream girl (Think Janelle Monae) and imagine she just broke your heart. You are in a delicate position with a critical decision to make. Will you make it with your heart or head? You being emotional this letter will show why the head is above the heart.
Because it makes you close-minded
Did you know your heart is made out of glass? Folded arms are the heart’s bulletproof vest. However, you won’t be able to speak this body language until the heart shatters into the hardest logic puzzle EVER. Then BOOM! Someone solves it. Well … not quite! Every time they try to put the last puzzle piece in they get cut. Blood is drawn. You and your best friend have the following conversation:
Best Friend: Girl, whatever happen to Har-old? Y’all shared the same birthday; both y’all wanted the same amount of kids and had the same philosophy on to how to raise ‘em; both y’all’s ultimate goal was to have a successful business; y’all finished each other sentences. Shit! Y’all was like the male and female version of each other.
You: Girl, his favorite color was orange! That motherfucker that broke my heart favorite color was orange. I told Har-old to pick another favorite color and his stubborn ass wouldn’t do it. Sooooo *sings* I’m single and back on the prowl …
Repair your broken heart by yourself. Replace that cheap, easily breakable stuff with Gorilla/Sapphire Glass and open your arms again. It may seem like the best way to protect yourself against painful experiences is to be rigid. You will kill the playful, receptive child in you when you do. And when you do, no one will think you’re cute enough to be around.
Because you REALLY fell in love with your imagination
You just spent an abrupt yet enchanting evening with your beloved. “What’s this?” They left some sort of Frisbee-sized, empty-centered circle behind. You call and tell them they forgot it. They say, “I’ll get it later.” Later becomes months. Now, y’all still have seen each other during this time. But the encounters were so brief and the moments so intoxicating, that by the time you remembered to say, “Don’t forget your … “ they were long gone. One day, you sit this ring-like disk in a prominent place, no matter the beautiful chaos, you won’t forget to return it. But something important happens. The circle gives you the ability to do something you couldn’t do with them standing next to you : Think. Something their overwhelming presence wouldn’t allow. Their mere association with the disk gives your imagination the required space to run wild. But something freaks you out as your thoughts become the more intense: that disk faintly glows. But you like where your thoughts are going. You don’t want to stop. Not now! Your fantasy reaches a thrilling climax. When you open your eyes you see the light, a steady light running through the disk. It’s a halo. What was once going to be given to them in their hand will now be placed on top of their head. Only after they break your heart will you realize why they weren’t in a rush to get the “halo” back … it wasn’t theirs.
Because the person who broke your heart WINS
Opposites attract. Have you noticed the difficulty for two heartbreakers to find each other even when it’s more of them in the world? And because it’s more of them, that naturally makes it harder for two innocent people to cross paths. Therefore, it’s always the innocent and the heartbreaker running into each other. When the world first started it was warm. Then the first person who got their little heart broke said, “I vow to never experience this pain again. For now on, I’m the heartbreaker.” Thus, began the “heartbroken becomes the heartbreaker” cycle. The world became cold. Why? Because no one never said, “I like getting my heart-broken.” And you shouldn’t like it, because it’s no fun. But what is fun? Winning and maintaining your individuality. Because you lose when you become what/who you hate.
One day, a man was breaking up with his girlfriend at the park. The argument was loud enough to be heard by other park-goers. One woman in particular happened to been the original woman who broke the man’s heart. The man used the woman’s breakup monologue verbatim from 4 years ago. The woman pulled a bag of popcorn from out of her purse and sat down on a nearby bench. After the girlfriend ran off crying and the “show” was over, the woman put EVERY SINGLE heartbreaker on the world’s biggest conference call and said, “We got another one!” It’s your job to say, “FUCK A SEQUEL!”and write an original screenplay that will have your sneaky-ass EX choking on a popcorn kernel. This is YOUR movie!
P.S. You did good on the 1st and 2nd. But now … you been fucking up! Phone off at 8. Up at 6. COME ON! COME ON!
Har-old, why are thoughts of sex and food clothed with action faster than any other idea crying for diapers in your head? We have a problem! A big fucking problem! When you’re horny, you don’t masturbate/have sex. When you’re hungry, you don’t eat. Yeah, that seems like the natural thing to do, however, when you firmly believe ejaculation affects productivity and food affects mood then transmutation becomes an acquired taste. I mean, just what if you disconnected your thoughts and actions when it came to sex and food. Say, you thought of food/sex like you normally do, but instead of acting on them you spirit your attention on the ideas you procrastinate on. Hunger and concupiscent energy are the keys to action. This can be for ANY action; not always the one that’s natural.
Another thing. Don’t try to break faith with the food affects mood and ejaculation affects productivity philosophy. Napoleon Hill is already in your head. I don’t wanna hear about the fat rich man or the billionaire playboy. They’re them and you are you! Tell me something … what does the days you’ve checked off almost or all the things on your Daily Schedule have in common?
A childless woman presents an often overlooked danger for an aspiring-father. And vice-versa. The classroom of the childless professor is boring lecture after boring lecture. What will you learn in your sleep? Hmm? But bring in the professor whose late for their own class because they couldn’t find a baby-sitter, and therefore, had to bring the kid to school for an impromptu “take your child to work day.” The magic of alertness happens. You’re suddenly transferred back to that golden paradise of childhood seeing that kid sitting in the empty desk next to you, pretending to be a big kid, eager to learn, trying its best to call the professor teacher instead of mom. You, fantasizing about a student-teacher relationship since the start of the semester, get your chance to see if it’s worth pursuing. You have learned from dating the childless professor to ignore what is said about parenting. You do the same with this professor, however, this person has truth-in-action with their offspring. This child has no filter. Tells it like it is. Right here, you learn. You, Har-old, are at the finish line of a race between a woman, carrying an empty suitcase in her hand, and a woman carrying excessive baggage. Will you go after the former, who crossed the finish line first? Or the latter, who lost because she was carrying the luggage in her arms as opposed to rolling it, in an effort to prevent any of her belongings from spilling out? If you chose the former, stop reading right now. Goodbye! But if it was the latter, these are 3 questions to ask yourself when dealing with her. Hopefully, the answers are better than the following examples. Although, bad, still better than the slippery words of a woman who can’t produce an example outside of a sibling she don’t even get along with.
How does she treat her child?
Meet Cartman. 8 years old. Favorite cartoon Harry The Orange Dinosaur. While watching it, he loves to sit close to the TV with the volume preferably to the max. Cartman’s mother, Brenda, gets headaches hearing all that animation noise and always yells at him to turn it down. Then one day while he’s watching his favorite cartoon, the doorbell rings. Brenda answers the door and Cartman sees a man he never seen before being escorted upstairs. To Cartman’s surprise, his mother yells from the top stair for him to turn up the TV as high as it can go. This scenario repeats for 21 days. Then one day while Cartman is watching Harry with his mother upstairs sleep, the cartoon announces that after they return from commercial break it will give away a special code to win one of its character toys. Panicking during the intermission and afraid he will get a severe lashing if he wakes his mother up with the noise, Cartman sees the mailman outside next door and runs on the porch screaming for help. The mailman drops his bag of mail and runs on the porch asking Cartman what’s wrong. Cartman tells him to run upstairs where his mommy is. Assuming she is in danger, the mailman obliges. Cartman runs to the TV turning up the volume to the max just as the cartoon is back from commercial. There’s a scream from upstairs. It’s Brenda! “Cartman, why the hell you tell this mailman to come in my bedroom?””Mommy, mommy, Harry giving away toys. I couldn’t hear the TV. You only let me turn it up loud when men go upstairs. I’ma get one mommy, I’ma get one.” The next day Brenda is arrested for child endangerment and prostitution. Police was tipped off by an “anonymous” caller. Har-old, this could be YOUR kid!
How does she treat her child’s father?
Meet Daniel. Mother raised him and his 3 siblings all by herself. Their father was a deadbeat. The grandfather was one too. The oldest of the bunch, Daniel became the man of the house. More of a father figure to his siblings than brother. Daniel vowed to himself at age 16 when he had kids one day he would break the cycle. Fast forward 10 years later Daniel is having his first child. He is excited! Tomicka, his girlfriend of 2 months is at the hospital pushing the baby’s head out. Daniel looks over the doctor’s shoulder to get a glimpse of the arrival of his bundle of joy and passes out from the unpleasant sight. When he wakes up, he’s laying on a separate hospital bed next to his girl’s. While Daniel is still recovering from his disorientation, Tomicka hands him a document that says Birth Certificate at top. He signs it. Tomicka raises her hand. A security guard rolls Daniel’s hospital bed out the room. A confused Daniel asks, “Where are you taking me?” The security guard says to another room. Daniel says, “Why? I want to be in the same room with my girl while she is giving birth to our son.” What the security guard told him next broke his heart. Tomicka broke up with him while he was passed out, but more shockingly, that Birth Certificate had the signature box cut out and underneath it was a Parental Rights document. He signed over his rights. Further investigation revealed Tomicka was a lesbian and was using Daniel for his sperm. Over the next 4 months Daniel would unsuccessfully battle Tomicka in court for his right to be in his child’s life. Seeing his own dad for the first time since he was 5 was the last straw. The deadbeat laughed at his troubles. Daniel ends up killing his dad, Tomicka and her girlfriend, then realizing he would go to jail for life and still not be able to raise his child, he commits suicide … after killing his 5-month-old son. His last words was, “God will let me be a father.” Har-old, this could be YOU!
How does the child and its father treat you?
Meet Tyrone and his daughter Kelsey. Tyrone secretly wants to get back together with his baby-mama, Sabrina, but Sabrina has happily moved on with boyfriend Louis. She adores her beau. Kelsey can’t stand her step-dad and wants her real daddy back with her mommy. Sensing this and the fact Kelsey is daddy’s little girl, Tyrone knows she will go along with any plot to dethrone Louis and crop him out the picture. The day comes. Sabrina has to step out for an hour, leaving Louis and Kelsey in the house by themselves. An hour later, Sabrina unlocks the front door to hear cries coming from her daughter’s bedroom. She walks in to see 20 dollar bills scattered across her bed. A total of $300. Sabrina asks Kelsey what’s wrong. She told her mother she went into the kitchen wearing nothing but her panties and a small shirt. Sabrina asked, “Why would you do that when you know a grown man is in the house?” Kelsey said she didn’t know Louis was there because she has never been home alone with him before. She said that’s why she dropped the glass plate on the ground. She was startled. She told her mom she scampered in her room to put on some pants, Louis came behind her, forcibly entered her room and raped her. The $300 was hush money. Sabrina, in a fit of rage, picked up glass by glass of that broken plate her daughter dropped on the kitchen floor and stabbed a nap-taking Louis 52 times. Tyrone celebrated by wearing his WCW championship belt, screaming “WOOOO” from his apartment window. Har-old, this could be YOUR extended family!
P.S. The same thing applies to a woman who has been married before. Lots to learn there. Study the treatment of her ex-husband.
Har-old, do you know the REAL reason Daylyt got a face tattoo? He did it so he couldn’t get a job. He called it no longer being locked in the Matrix. Now I’m not suggesting you get a Spawn tattoo on your mug, however, I am suggesting going to similar extremes that FORCE entrepreneurship on you. That will allow you to be your own boss. To do whatever you like. Free yourself from the rat race by purposely losing it.
Now, what will be your extreme?
Every adversity, every failure and every heartache carries with it the seed of an equivalent or a greater benefit.
Hill went on further to say, “Despite the benefits with which we may get from adversities and unpleasant experiences of every nature no one desires to meet with these experiences.” Time to test Hill’s philosophy. What if you became the one who did desire to meet with such experiences? Har-old, what if you planned your “failures” as a way to gain wisdom? Hmmm? Plan to get caught. Start a fire. Of course!!! #MasterMind