Chapter 234 - The Subtle Art Of Not Giving A F.u.c.k[1]

In my life, I have given a f.u.c.k about many people and many things. I have also not given a f.u.c.k about many people and many things. And those f.u.c.ks I have not given have made all the difference.

People often say the key to confidence and success in life is to simply "not give a f.u.c.k." Indeed, we often refer to the strongest, most admirable people we know in terms of their lack of f.u.c.ks given. Like "Oh, look at Susie working weekends again, she doesn't give a f.u.c.k." Or "Did you hear that Tom called the company president an asshole and still got a raise anyway? Holy shit, that dude does not give a f.u.c.k." Or "Jason got up and ended his date with Cindy after 20 minutes. He said he wasn't going to listen to her bullshit anymore. Man, that guy does not give a f.u.c.k."

Chances are you know somebody in your life who, at one time or another, did not give a f.u.c.k and went on to accomplish amazing feats. Perhaps there was a time in your life where you simply did not give a f.u.c.k and excelled in some extraordinary heights. I know for myself, quitting my day job in finance after only six weeks and telling my boss that I was going to start selling dating advice online ranks pretty high up there in my own "didn't give a f.u.c.k" hall of fame. Same with deciding to sell most of my possessions and move to South America. F.u.c.ks given? None. Just went and did it.

Everybody just wants to be liked and accepted. Except for Tim. Tim doesn't give a f.u.c.k.

Now, while not giving a f.u.c.k may seem simple on the surface, it's a whole new bag of burritos under the hood. I don't even know what that sentence means, but I don't give a f.u.c.k. A bag of burritos sounds awesome, so let's just go with it.

The point is, most of us struggle throughout our lives by giving too many f.u.c.ks in situations where f.u.c.ks do not deserve to be given. We give a f.u.c.k about the rude gas station attendant who gave us too many nickels. We give a f.u.c.k when a show we liked was canceled on TV. We give a f.u.c.k when our coworkers don't bother asking us about our awesome weekend. We give a f.u.c.k when it's raining and we were supposed to go jogging in the morning.

F.u.c.ks given everywhere. Strewn about like seeds in mother-f.u.c.k.i.n.g spring time. And for what purpose? For what reason? Convenience? Easy comforts? A pat on the f.u.c.k.i.n.g back maybe?

This is the problem, my friend.

Because when we give too many f.u.c.ks, when we choose to give a f.u.c.k about everything, then we feel as though we are perpetually entitled to feel comfortable and happy at all times, that's when life f.u.c.ks us.

Indeed, the ability to reserve our f.u.c.ks for only the most f.u.c.kworthy of situations would surely make life a hell of a lot easier. Failure would be less terrifying. Rejection less painful. Unpleasant necessities more pleasant and the unsavory shit sandwiches a little bit more savory. I mean, if we could only give a few less f.u.c.ks, or a few more consciously-directed f.u.c.ks, then life would feel pretty f.u.c.k.i.n.g easy.

What we don't realize is that there is a fine art of non-f.u.c.k-giving. People aren't just born not giving a f.u.c.k. In fact, we're born giving way too many f.u.c.ks. Ever watch a kid cry his eyes out because his hat is the wrong shade of blue? Exactly. F.u.c.k that kid.

Developing the ability to control and manage the f.u.c.ks you give is the essence of strength and integrity. We must craft and hone our lack of f.u.c.kery over the course of years and decades. Like a fine wine, our f.u.c.ks must age into a fine vintage, only uncorked and given on the most special f.u.c.k.i.n.g occasions.

This may sound easy. But it is not. Most of us, most of the time, get sucked in by life's mean trivialities, steamrolled by its unimportant dramas; we live and die by the sidenotes and distractions and vicissitudes that suck the f.u.c.ks out of us like Sasha Grey in the middle of a gangbang.

This is no way to live, man. So stop f.u.c.k.i.n.g around. Get your f.u.c.ks together. And here, allow me to f.u.c.k.i.n.g show you.