Shit or get off the pot

Enough.

Enough of the martyrdom. Enough of the escapist bullshit. You're not old, you're not redundant, but the shadows are lengthening you're starting to sound vaguely familiar.

Yes, you aligned yourself with vampires and shysters. Yes, you underestimated the good of humanity. Sure, he shunned you mid-sentence, but this need not be an prediction of things to come.

You have not learned to inspire. Learn to inspire. You are too busy mourning your broken, phony alliances to recognize your supporters. You are waiting for smoke signals that were never meant for you, while you let your own embers fade into an uneasy dusk. You tell yourself that you have chosen your path, yet why do you choose to sit there and do nothing day in and day out?

Where is your voice? You used to have such a strong voice. Why have you allowed your ambition to become a cruel joke instead of a means of empowerment? People loved you - and they still do. Why do you pretend you're on your own?

Boys like you. They always will. Quit acting shocked and ashamed - get over it and do your fucking job. Others resent you. They always will. Quit acting hurt and submissive - get over it and do your fucking job.

You've been poor. You chose that, but it didn't make you a better person. Now you're making a living. You chose that too, but it has nothing to do with the task at hand. Remember the boat maker and the architect? They weren't better people because they focused so much on not money that they lost all relevance. But you're not 30 years older, and there's more in your life than quixotic narcissism and figments of time and proximity.

So shit or get off the pot. Get off the pot and find your religion. Find your husband and your job and your circle of acquaintances. If there are unanswered questions, find a minor addiction to explain them away. In short, shut the fuck up, because nobody cares anymore.

Or do it. Shut up and fucking do it. If you can't inspire, learn to inspire. If you're tired, do something small and quit pissing away your waning hours on nothing. If you have lost your voice, learn a new medium.

Because angst is so 2002.