I’ve always had a supportive family. They’ve always told me how great I am, and how ridiculously awesome a human being I am, and how much potential I have. All this support has naturally left me to believe that I am the prime benefactor of some multi-billionaire’s will, and they’re just kissing ass before it’s too late.
I’ve been pampered and complimented all my upbringing, and I’ve grown up soft. What I need is a good ol’ fashioned ass whooping. I need to be beaten when I disobey, and whipped when I speak out of line. I need to know that I’m worthless.
This doesn’t apply only to me, but to millions of people growing up like me. To the pampered youth being raised in loving households with families that believe in them; you make me sick.
Don’t get me wrong, everybody needs love and everybody needs support but with this needs to come a dose of reality. Most of us are raised being told how special we are; which coincidentally happens to be true in my case, but for the rest of you, it’s a lie. You suck.
We’re raised to believe that we can do anything and be anything we put our minds to and this is simply not true. You can not do anything you put your mind to. If you could we wouldn’t need pumps and internet ads for penis enlargement. Some dreams are unattainable.
What about little Jimmy who wants to be nothing more than a stapler when he grows up, who are you to build up his hopes of one day fulfilling that dream? Imagine how much more heartbroken that guy you just accidentally stepped on, sleeping on the sidewalk is when he wakes up and realizes he’s not a big Hollywood director. Imagine little John Kerry’s disappointment when he realized that when his parents told him he could be the President of the United States of America one day, they lied.
I know that it may seem disheartening to think that the best you can aspire for is middle management, but it’s really not so bad. There’s nothing wrong with being average, nothing wrong with being normal. Besides, if you’re a female, you’ve got a vagina. Use it.
My “thing” has always been writing. My family has always told me it’s good and that I can have a profession in it. They read my work and they tell it’s great, they tell me to keep writing. I love my family and appreciate all the support they give me, but now I have a set of expectations. I can be a writer if I apply myself, and if I don’t achieve this, I’m a failure.
So again, for these reasons I repeat: Beat your children. Tell them they’re useless, convince them they’re adopted, spit on them for fun. Tell your offspring they’re ugly talent less hacks, and remind them how lucky they are that the clothes hanger missed their head when they were inside their mother. Remind your kids that they are not special.
If we were all without expectations than we would all be without disappointment. Life would be easy. We would be happy. Have dreams, but make them reasonable expectations. Family support is important.
My family will read this, and they’ll tell me how well written it was, and how much they enjoyed it. They’ll tell me to keep writing.
