Ambition will fuck all of us in the end.

You’re out having a smashing time, dancing like a lunatic in bar/club, young nubile woman gyrating on the dance floor smiling and giggling away while the DJ is spinning songs that you know almost all of the words to for every single song.

Then you realise the young nubile girls gyrating around the dance floor are probably smiling at the sheer retro value of all these songs, the same way you would at MC Hammer. So it suddenly dawns on you at 4 in the morning, after way more than 4 tequilas, that you are rapidly approaching 30. This by far is one of the most depressing thoughts that could possibly cross an inebriated mind.

You are old. But you don’t feel it...ok that’s most evidently a lie as you crawl out of bed at 3 o,clock the next afternoon and swear for the millionth time that you are never drinking tequila again, ever. You sure don’t bounce back like you use to, you just kinda fall, lie there for a while and get back up slowly. You start wondering how long it will be till you fall and things start breaking.

So why have the years slowly sneaked up and pounced on you like a pack of angry ninja muffins? Why have you suddenly progressed from being a 20something to an old man almost instantaneously? Why does it ,for some reason, dawn on you that time is running out rather quickly?

The answer is rather simple actually. You have a condition. Your condition is ambition.

Yes that’s right you are aspiring to greatness and in your head greatness is something that should be achieved as early in life as possible, carried through until you die and preferably linger long after your gone.

You’ve gone and set yourself some goals in your youth. Be it wealth, fame, happiness, notoriety or as in my case actually physically write and have published a novel that rocks so hard people in Alaska’s lose teeth as the earth rebounds of the sheer awesomenasity of said literary work.

You my friend, like myself, have set the stakes pretty high against yourself. Face it your 5 year plan just became a 10 year one and extrapolating from the data you’ve gathered throughout your life regarding procrastination that number could be slightly off, by a decade or so.

There is however viable cures for this condition.

1: Stop caring, your ambitions are insignificant.

2: Chill out; leave it for later, because you know you will be able to do it better later...Just 5 more minutes mom.

3: Set yourself on fire

None of these will unfortunately appeal to most, but there is a golden mean that could solve your problem.

Why not incorporate all these into one by following the way of the monk, enabling you to learn how to properly chill out, wear sweet orange dresses that are way more comfortable than ties and have a great second/third/nth attempt at doing better the next life round.

Fuck you ambition!

It’s time for a change = Punch yourself in the face.

Your tired all the time. Your monotonous daily routine is wearing you down. Face it, you are bored beyond belief and it’s showing no signs of letting up anytime soon.
You could try a new diet, start doing Pilates or go extreme and start shoplifting large electric appliances. Anything to break the sheer handwringing-facepalming-openmouthyawning-touchingyourselfinapropriatlywaytomuchathome-ness-ness that is your life.

There is however a certain way of changing your perception and bringing some unexpected life back to the empty shell of you existence.

You need to punch yourself in the face. Hard. Or even better, up the unexpectedness of said punch by asking a friend (or an enemy, that should make it easier to find an accomplice) to unexpectedly punch you in the face. Or for the ultimate rush get a bear to do it. You will never feel more alive as the moment after you wake from your bear induced coma.

Okay so some of you may be thinking. Why would I want to inflict bodily damage to myself? What are you on Saint? But there is some method in my madness (or the other way around). Here’s why.

You have grown complacent and therefore you need to wake up and if you are seriously considering punching yourself, there is still hope for you.

Most office bound corporate types (Like myself and you considering you are reading my blog to avoid working) spend a great deal of time getting a screen tan, hunched over your keyboard, pouring over inevitably meaningless “work” that will not change the world one bit in the long run.

Inevitably you will realise that if you are not doing manly things for a living, like skydiving into a forest fire to save a bus full of cheerleaders or at the very least carpentry (don’t knock it, Jesus was a carpenter) your job as a (insert your now irrelevant job here) is pretty mundane and then it dawns on you...

You have become a pussy. Don’t fight it. Say it with me “I am a pussy”. You have lost the will to be awesome and therefore you are slowly dying, on your ergonomic chair, in your fabulously air-conditioned cubicle. Dying because you have no backbone, no ambitioned to change the world and ... you’re a pussy (but we have covered that).

Nothing depussyfies a man like a dragonpunch from a bear! Any bear will essentially do even a fucking panda. What am a saying especially a panda! (They know kung fu)

The time has come to shake of the bonds of mediocrity and start doing something worthy of legacy and in my books taking a punch from a bear is right up there.

Of course bears aren’t readily available everywhere, so why not try the DIY solution.
Give yourself a quick pick-me-uppercut. You’ll feel more alive, guaranteed.