Sometimes Prostitutes Suck

No matter how hard you try in life to be an exemplary human, no matter how conscientious you are of others’ needs or desires, and no matter how diligent your attempts might be to save the world, shitty things will still happen to you.

Sorry chief, that’s just the nature of this reality.

It’s easy enough to get into a funk when things go wrong. Despite mega-postitive mindsets, and unwavering faith in other-wordly, supportive guides, there’s no predicting what circumstance might unfold one day to leave you stressed, grief-filled, or miserable.

But these are the moments that matter most — the ones that shouldn’t be relegated to the “that’s not fucking fair” pile, but accepted with open arms to glean new perspectives into self and reality.

How many times have we bemoaned a situation that later turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to us? How many times have we lain wake at night, tossing and turning in rhythm to possible horrific scenarios that failed to manifest upon the rising of a morning sun?

What we continually forget throughout this life journey is that our present moment always reflects each and every choice we’ve made in the past. There is nothing bad that can befall us, because we’ve been the architects of every construction. We made a decision at some point where the toilet should sit in our perfect home, so there’s no reason to fret when we realize the stink pipe was erroneously placed. We simply need to learn to make corrections when necessary, without lashing out at the nearest convenient scape-goat who may have suggested design ideas we knew weren’t right for us.

We’ve all worked with shitty blueprints at one time or another, but that doesn’t mean the building we’re currently residing in can’t be updated, modified, or torn to the ground, if necessary, to rethink grander designs.

The fun in life is to keep building, no matter how half-assed some of our earlier foundations may have been. Trial and error is our greatest teacher, and each iteration of our “happiness tower” provides invaluable insight on how to enhance the structure to provide maximum sunshine for the cherry tomatoes and pot-plants we have growing on the sill.

Setbacks are part of the learning curve. Without them, growth and evolution would be meaningless. We play our games because we have a passion for them, wondering just how good we may get if we remain focused and dedicated. If we were experts at everything we tried — sitting on our mountain tops effortlessly, to witness an endgame without the trials and tribulations that make summiting worthwhile — there would be no reason to play. The fun is always in climbing, with the peak becoming a realization newer heights need to be explored.

There are no shitty things that happen to us. Only a perspective that perhaps the game we’ve chosen to obsess over might not be our cup of tea. And that’s a good thing, because there’s far more out there than chamomile and cinnamon rooibus. I would recommend avoiding pumpkin chai, too, cuz it sucks ass.

Though this may come across as an “easier said than done” philosophy, the best thing you can do with an unfair assfucking is to let it go. Yeah, your sphincter might feel raw and tender for many days to follow, but the discomfort will pass — and always lead to a thought somewhere down the road declaring, “Sure, it fucking sucked, but it was just the thing I needed at the time — look at me now!”

This is more than just rolling with the punches — this is the realization that a shot or two below the belt provides invaluable insight to develop new strategies to challenge the deranged and intimidating semi-pro intent on splattering your grey-matter all over the boxing ring. There’s no reason to be intimidated by a Don King managed antagonist, as long as you remain true to your desire to wear a championship belt personalized to you.

So if an unwanted event happens, something that causes you to question your motivation to expend energy to rebalance the burden back to status quo, it might be time to make a connection that the path you’re desperately clearing with a machete might not be the right one for you.

And that’s fine, because the only limits to exploration are the ones you impose on yourself. Sure, gun-toting cocksuckers might await you at many gates, but there are always roads around them. They care more about paycheques and the size of their penises, than truly hindering your progress.

Forget beating yourself up when shit hits the fan, and focus on finding the best solution to patch the hole in your boat. A new archipelago always awaits in the distance. All you ever need to get moving again is a passion to see what’s over the horizon. Some repairs will take more time than others, but with a little creativity, elbow grease, and a whack of epoxy, (I hear sheep-dung works well at times for leaks, too), you’ll be on your way again before you know it — the islands of grief forgotten in lieu of exciting new ports.

Don’t stress the repair work — learn from it. And even if another tiger-shark rams its head through your hull, you’ll know how to deal with it, this time with greater amusement at the absurdity of the situation, with stress and grief relegated to your holding tank of waste, ready to be flushed into the ocean before the next dock is reached.

Always be ready to set your sails. It’s just a matter of time before the winds of life start blowing your way again.

That was probably the right segue for a blow-job joke, but focus on your other work first, and when you’re done, I’ll have the ultimate fellatio one-liner perfected to reward your dedication.

Forget about things that suck…