Hoptuah



Go on, get out there. Do your thing, make that piece. Start a project, eat some cake, have some fun. Stop worrying about all that shit going on over there and take hold of your life. YOUR LIFE! You only have one shot at this, so why are you spending it trying to fit into some stupid box? Why are you holding that damned phone so close to your face? Pick up a pencil, grab a brush, snag a ream of paper. Turn the mind off and let the brain do the talking. And for god's sake take your tongue off the roof of your mouth! 

I'm so so so so so so so so so sick of- SO FUCKING SICK OF- hearing people tell me just how much they really want to do the thing they like to do. All i hear is moaning and groaning about how much you people WANT to do something.  Wahhh I want to write. Wahhhh I don't play the guitar as much as I like. Waahhh I'm single and I don't get out at all. Wahh whahhhhahahahahah 




DO IT! JUST DO IT FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! YOU CAN DO ANYTHING! YOU"RE IN YOUR TWENTIES, or THIRTIES (if you're that old and reading this, thanks) EVEN 40's IS FINE. Just get your ******* stupid ******* mind off of the stupid ******* shit your stupid life pretends to revolve around. Why are you taking your dumb factory job home with you? Why are you stressed about a client you have no control over? Are you working in Wall Street? Are you a teacher?  Are you a politician? Are you a doctor? If you said yes to these, then thanks for keeping us all going. But I know you- YES, YOU- aren't one of those classifications, so here's what I say to you. 

Your.

Work.

Isn't.

Important.

Your work. Is not. Important. 

But Chase, that's so extreme! Surely my work is; and if it's not important, then what's the point? The point is that you have one life and you're choosing to take the fun out of it every single day! 


I know what you're thinking- I'm a person too, you know. You're thinking that what I just said is not true, or it's insensitive, or it's rude. No. I disagree. Take a look at your job. Is your job important?  Truly? The important part of a job is that you make money from it, and if you're lucky you at least semi-enjoy it or feel a sense of purpose from it. Most people, people like you and me, don't keep that second bit after the first six months. That goes away as quick as relationship butterflies. (But I still get them from- yeah yeah, shut up. We're all jealous that you get butterflies when your husband takes his shirt off and vacuums the house. Men used to go to wars.)



I'm not telling you to quit your job for f***s sake- I'm telling you to stop bringing your crappy job back home with you. There's no need to worry about the back order on the sub assembly line or some bullshit new product your business is selling. You need to be creating a good life in your spare time. 

You need to stop sitting like that with your TikTok so loud and bright. The government has hundreds of hours of footage of your big ugly triple chin. Knock it off, you're making us look bad. And brush your teeth- what is that- cilantro?

The point is this. I need you to stop pretending that you're a victim of time insecurity. You pretend you have a problem; the problem of not having enough time. That is a pretend problem. You have twenty four hours in a day. Eight of which ideally you need to be sleeping for, another eight for working at the fudge factory. After that, you're left with eight hours split up throughout the day. I reckon you spend an hour of that eight before work doing breakfast and combing hair over that bald spot (nobody notices, I promise), an hour after work decompressing or showering or catching up on Comatozze's newest video, and then there's what like 6 hours of time left? Technically? 



Take a minute after we finish here to log what you really have to do after work. Truly, and not appointments because there's always time for scheduled things. How's that possible? How is it possible that you can make time for appointments without any hassle but somehow you have no time to sit and do something other than gawk at reused memes on Instagram. 

Write it down. The way I see it, you're on your phone too much. If you cut your phone usage out, I bet you could have a novel written in six months. Between June 17 and October 30th, I wrote 95K words on a single project. This doesn't include any short stories, rambles, side projects, or blogs that I did during then. This is one project. That's 135 days. Guess how many words I wrote, on average, for that time? 

704. That's it. 704 words per day, on average. I spit 704 words out in fifteen minutes these days. I'm dead serious. I wrote this whole bit in about twenty, and it counts around 890. Something like that. 

Pick up that paper, align the canvas, draw the stick figure. Start somewhere. Anywhere.

And text me once you've started something. I'd love to hear about what you're working on. 


Happy Sunday!


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