Fuck that, quit! It’s not what you wanted to do anyway. You’ve been molded into some shit you’ve never wanted to be. Your life is routine, safe, comfortable. Your life is predictable, planned, familiar. I get it, if you just dropped everything RIGHT NOW and revived the dreams you killed years ago you’d be risking everything. You’d be broke. People might even leave with the money. But I’m going to tell you like a wise man once told me, “that too shall pass.” so dammit, just JUMP and believe in your wings. Just take a leap for once and BELIEVE. Not society. Not your friends. Not your parents. Believe in YOU. Believe in your passion. Believe in your craft.
That average shit aint your calling, baby. Stop ignoring your dreams every time they creep up on you.
My supervisor asked me what I want to do after I graduate. I said, “do you want the passion answer or the money answer?” As soon as it came out of my mouth I knew I couldn’t graduate and become a robot; waking up to do the same damn job I hate everyday. Before my senior year I was soooo set on going to graduate school and becoming a forensic psychiatrist. Don’t get me wrong, I love psychology and I’d be making great money. However, psychology doesn’t set my soul on fire like what I’m doing now. It doesn’t set flames to my heart just thinking about all the places my passion can take me. I know many people struggle with “passion vs money.” Freshman year, my rapper/producer friends were telling me they were dropping out of school to focus on their crafts. I practically begged them to stay in school because for some fucked up reason I had slipped in that box society loves to place us in as they beat “school is the only way” into our heads. Granted, school gives you a cushion to land on just in case you fall & you may fall HARD but it is far from the only way. “Not all those who wander are lost.” Today? My rapper/producer friends are working on their second album and getting flown to Cali. So if you’re reading this and trying to decide between what you love and what will make you money, choose what you love and work every fucking day all day at it and get motherfuckers to love it as much as you do and the money will be there waiting for you.
You’ve told someone your dreams and they laughed at you or they looked at you like you had just told them your dog asked for the weed-man’s number. They told you to get real. “Be realistic, you’re not about to be making 6 figures by 23. You’re not going to be so important the fucking president knows who you are.” Why not? The only difference between you and Hov is that he didn’t believe the good life was too good for him. Neither do I. Sometimes I just sit back and picture mine. How people are going to be making me purses worth thousands of dollars just because of who I am. How Im going to have at least 3 best sellers. How I’m going to be giving thousands to charities. Just because you think there’s a life that’s too good to ever be yours, a life too good to ever be your reality, doesn’t mean you tell someone they’re better off wishing to be second place. Fuck that. If no one ever thought your dreams were off the damn wall, we gotta work on how high you aim.
So…after I decided Im going to take at least a year off before (if) I go to graduate school, I knew I had to prove I’m making the right decision. That’s the catch about chasing your dreams: you have to prove to those around you that they’re worth chasing and you had a good damn reason for going left when everyone went right. So you’ll have to work a little (actually, alotta) harder than everyone else. You’ll have to sleep a little less than everyone else. You’ll have to be a little more organized than everyone else. You’ll have to stand out a little more. Sacrifice a little more. Your dreams should be so huge they scare the shit out of you. When you think of how high you’ve aimed you should be scared that your life might actually really be the shit one day. Let your dreams become your nightmares. Let them haunt you until you face them. Let them keep you up at night. Let them force you to get out of the bed because you can’t sleep. If your dreams alone don’t drive you to hustle every damn day, you’re clearly content with being more average than Joe himself.