I view the whole “best friend” conundrum to be more of a childhood farce. Somehow we have it all imprinted in our minds at a very young age that we need a best friend. As if all our other friends were suddenly of less value. I remember a childhood memory of mine where I had ranked “best friends”. I think I had like, 6 of them. Obviously I wasn’t following conventions. How can one have multiple best friends? Being the “best” is equivalent to being #1 at something. You hold that title. ...

What does that even mean? Does that mean I’m a thrill seeker and will do stuff like zipline from a really high elevation? Does that mean I’ll take a bullet for the President? Am I a risk taker? I think by asking these questions, I know that I am most certainly not brave in any way shape or form. Confidence is key and that is something that I lack. I believe that a person can lose the bravery quality when being brave in the first place gets them nowhere. This is where I come in. ...

Using Facebook is easy. You just post stuff that no one cares about. Then the stuff people actually care about they’ll try and argue with you the whole time until you’re not friends anymore. Wait, isn’t that how politics work? I like seeing updates about people’s’ lives through the form of photos or some real concrete status update. Then I can feel sad for a few moments about how my life is nowhere as amazing as theirs and then make fun of myself for being stuck in the pit that is nothingness. ...

I’ve learned that harsh criticism is the best type of feedback for improvement. How are you going to take your faults seriously if someone doesn’t nitpick it for you? I learned this from running. I could run the best race of my life, but there’s always something wrong with it. There is always something to work on. This applies to everything. Your bad grade in school could be, in itself, a criticism of how hard you worked to test yourself on your knowledge at the subject at hand. Then again, you could be terrible at tests like me and just be a failure because you can’t take tests. ...

Well, I’d better win it fast because I only plan to be around until I’m 40. I mean, winning the lottery isn’t all it’s cracked up to be anyway. Once you get it, you’ll probably pay taxes up the butt. I wouldn’t quit my job (unless it was a job I absolutely hated). I’d probably work part time and take a reduced salary (if both those things are allowed) because I got to keep busy somehow so I can keep myself honest and blow the entire winning away. ...