Write more. You’re a writer, so write more. Make time. Find time. Create time. Be time, because it’s time.
Let go. Some things you can control. Some things you can’t. Work on what you can and accept what you can’t.
Live in the moment. Right now, this very moment is me sitting in a claw foot bathtub-turned-sofa on the balcony of an apartment on Magazine drinking a
bottle glass of zinfandel named “zin-phomaniac” and punching away on my keyboard. I like this life.
Drink more wine. One, because it’s good. Two, because it’s sophisticated. Three, because you get a pretty decent buzz after a few sips.
Make shit happen. Don’t just talk about writing sketches with your friends, writing a novel, performing stand-up (aka sit-down) at an open mic night. Actually do it. You’ve got one life, so live it.
Be happy with yourself. You’re only 23. You’re not supposed to have your entire existence figured out. You’re not supposed to have a ring on your finger and a family in the works. You’re not supposed to own your own house and have two Master’s degrees. You’re supposed to be you, and you’re supposed to be happy. Do those things.
Stay uncomfortable. Take risks, take chances, and never lay your head on your pillow at night and think to yourself, “I’m good.” Being good and feeling good is not good enough. You are gold and gold is not good, it’s magnificent.
Teach yourself to love. To love yourself, to love your friends, to love your family, to love the guy who says you’re great, to love the pet that greets you whenever you come home, to love the city you live in, to love your apartment, to love your body, to love your job even if it’s soul-sucking and not soul-nurturing. Love your life and love what you have, because there are people who are wishing for the things you take for granted.
Be. Just be.
Talk to y’all soon,