THE MASTER OF FUCK UPS

I'm quite sure of this, actually 100% undeniably so sure I will put my hand on a flaming hot stove to prove this statement. We are a society of fuck ups.  Every single one of us.  I  HAVE EARNED MY MASTERS DEGREE IN FUCKING UP.  This subject is very near and not so dear in this present day of our every day lives.  Some of us learn from our past fuck ups and some fuck-ups we repeat until the lesson is embroidered into our subconscious with thread the thickness of the diameter of Mexico.  Minus the tequila only left with the worm to swallow.  That worm though...

We are all born with a magnificent little device at our fingertips, our minds can be the most horrifically and gratifying device we have at our disposal, and it's up to us to write the chapters.  Some chapters we'll need to re-read, edit and then re-write until the words comfortably make some sense to us.  If no sense can be made no matter how many times we try to edit the piece, then we also have the choice of accepting or aborting the chapters.  It really is all up to YOU.

This is where we consciously work together with a fuck up in the one hand and the minds ability in the other.
We are able with a bit of time and patience and more tolerance put these two individually operating entities in one big ass bowl and make a damn fine cake out of this.  That is of course if you don't mind getting your hands dirty and stop wallowing in a bit of flour that got stuck in the sieve. 

And it's as easy as that, you wake up one day, you decide to fuck the fuck-ups, and cut a well deserved slice outta that bitch.  Because ain't nobody (especially yourself) gonna get you down no more.

Fuck ups are a given.  Stagnating is normal but beating yourself up for a tiny hurdle is not in this recipe.

Yes, you fucked up.  Now get up, and carry the fuck on with your life like the badass you were born to be.

End.