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On Purpose

We all strive to live a purposeful life, to feel that our steps are being guided by the divine. We long for the universe to look down and whisper in our ear, booming as the voice may be, "Youre on the right path". Personally, I think that the idea of a purpose is overrated. To narrowly define the entire spectrum of your life to such mundane specificity seems fatally neurotic. Its similar to the goals we've all been guilty of setting for ourselves as teenagers. For many young girls, it's been "be married by 25, with 2 kids and a house in the suburbs". Ive known some that have accomplished that, and they're perfectly happy and emotionally satiated being stay at home wives and mothers. Many women consider motherhood to be the highest calling a woman can aspire too, regardless of what the cancerous cult of Feminism would have many believe. By that same token, Ive known, and been propositioned, by many women in their early to mid twenties who, in possession of the perfect nuclear family other women would kill for, piss it all away casually. "I need to live my life, Im still young.", is the rallying cry of these repulsive harpies, and although Im not exactly known for my stringent morals regarding infidelity, particularly with a boyfriend, or even a new husband, in the picture, children are an absolute dealbreaker. Yet these girls dishonor their young families night after night, all while some poor beta bitch sits at home wondering where his Princess has absconded to once again come moonlight. Not that we men are any better. In many cases we are inveterately, indiscriminately promiscuous. At any bar the world over, whether in downtown San Diego or an upscale pub in London, Ive seen rings disappear as swiftly as commitments, vows and morals. Escorts were obtained with an ease that bordered on satirical, and love became burdensome, the Mark of Cain, rather than uplifting and inspiring. Not that all men desire a family anyway. I do, one day, but for every male that shares my outlook there are 10 that aspire to remain players until death claims them and they go to that big lounge in the sky, where the whiskey flows freely and every girl is fit, curvaceous, scantily clad, and mixed with some type of Asian or Latin lineage of indiscernable origin. God willing. The point of this diatribe is that adhering to rigid standards and requirements for your life is poisonous and paralyzing. This kind of dogmatism can kill your zest for new experiences, and freeze you in place. Just let things come to you naturally. Ride the wave aggressively and dangerously. Dont be afraid to wipeout.

A beautiful young woman recently inquired about the value of a purposeless life to me. "What's the point of living it", she proposed. While I will argue until I asphyxiate that suicide is never the answer, no matter what, I will concede, begrudgingly of course, because Im a stubborn asshole, and agree that a purposeless life can be drudgery personified. If your path in this world leaves you unfulfilled, then an immediate change of both destination and surroundings is needed. Nobody should be resigned to a listless fate simply because they lack direction. While it is ultimately up to us to determine what we do in this life and how we will respond to the inevitable diversity levied at us, a little well timed support and encouragement from others can be the difference between an inch taken and a mile earned. If you are so lost that you are unable to ask yourself the basic questions and respect the answers presented with a decent level of respect, then turn to those closest to you. Pray. Determine what you want out of this life, no matter how esoteric or out there it may seem, and run with it. I mean fuck, Im 25, and the answers to these questions are just now making themselves apparent. To believe youll reach Buddha level enlightenment at 18 is asinine. The idea for this blog's namesake came from a girl I know. Just before deployment, while discussing this idea with her, she suggested that I begin with photos of me doing a handstand on some foreign monument everywhere we went. A genius idea, simple in execution and beautiful in its universal potency. While it never came to fruition, mostly because I was too drunk to remember to take the photos, let alone perform rudimentary gymnastics on literal foreign objects, that modicum of inspiration gave birth to what amounts to my online journal. This blog is the medium through which I not only share my voice and display my talent for the world, but also the window that provides a no frills, bare bones look into the deeper parts of my soul. If I had told anybody that my purpose in life was to write, I doubt I would be taken seriously. In fact, Ive stated that to a variety of people throughout my life, and reactions have been mixed. Consternation at worst and shallow enthusiasm and disinterested, half-hearted encouragement at best, I realized early on that nobody would support me better than I could support myself, and I became my own cheerleader, minus the miniskirt. So, once again, when the fog that mires your internal vision has dissipated and your perspective is no longer cast askew, present yourself with this question: "What do I want". Answer with unabashed, fervent honesty. The full revelation of your drive may reveal itself spontaneously, suddenly and shamelessly, or you may recieve a wisp of smoke, signaling the faintest of trails, leading you to a raging inferno, the epitomy of your burning passion. Bathe in that fire. Allow it to consume you, however painful it may be. Become the phoenix, and when you are reborn, freed from the shackles of conformity and fear, you will possess the courageousness and clarity of vision required of those who follow their dreams with disturbing, uncompromising precision. So, in short baby, and I know youre reading this, that is my answer. Dont struggle. Just answer. Find what you want, and chase after it ferociously, a hunter stalking, capturing, subduing and ultimately devouring its prey. You deserve no less, and should demand no more, for this is the highest calling God could bless you with. Dont bemoan the fact that you dont have all the answers. They dont exist because you havent written them yet. Remember our earlier conversations. Now go bleed for your art. Ill be right there with you, fists clenched, eyes gleaming, heart pounding, and spirit lusting.

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