The art of giving no fucks can only be mastered through experiencing the utter shit hole that is life. At a certain point, you realize that everything is meaningless. And it’s unfortunate, because by the time you’re ready to fully embrace zero fucks given, you’re too old to enjoy it. So let me help speed up the process so you can get a little more mileage out of not caring. Here’s how you do it.
Focus on death
Spend at least 5 minutes every day reminding yourself that you’re going to die. Which is great news, by the way—because it means none of this matters. None of it. So you can let it go. You messed up at work? Whatever—one day you’ll be gone, and with any luck your boss will go
soon first, so who’s gonna care then? You failed a test? Psht—you know who test results don’t matter to? YOUR DEAD BODY. Your thighs are getting a little cottage cheesy? Eh, soon enough they’ll be rotting in the ground, so who gives a shit. #byeeeeeeee
Put things in perspective
Things only have meaning if you assign it to them. So whip out your relativity skills and play the comparison game: weigh whatever’s got you riled up against something else in order to put it in perspective. E.g. if your tire gets slashed, just think about all the women who’ve slept with Charlie Sheen. Or if you get fucked by your insurance company, revel in the fact that everyone who works there must go home at night to their TV dinners, shag carpets, and oak furniture, and have to reconcile their receding hairlines, egg-shaped bodies, and ill-fitting pantsuits while somehow managing to not put a bullet through their heads. Or if your school’s douchey registrar (is there any other kind?) doesn’t let you sign up for the one class you might actually like, take comfort in the fact that she recently found out she’s allergic to gluten. #ifyoucan’thavebreadyoumightaswellbedead #atleastIcaneatadonut,bitch
It’s not enough to try to act like you give no fucks. You have to live it. You have to go through life actually giving none. This means that the next time someone tries to embarrass you, you don’t try to save face in the moment but then go cry to your mom when you get home. Instead, you stick .it. to. them. in real time—I find it helps to say something like, “COME FOR ME, motherfucker—I fucking DARE you. BLOW ME and the horse you rode in on, you worthless piece of shit” whilst yielding a baseball bat—and move on, with your head held high. It means that when you make a mistake, you don’t spend forever obsessing with guilt about it—you realize it, maybe try to learn something from it maybe, and then proceed to fucking your next thing up. It means that you don’t try to meet someone else’s standard of beauty or success, but you burn that motherfucker DOWN and follow your own path, misguided and aimless as it may be.
Believe in karma
Or what white people have appropriated and mislabeled as karma: the idea that what goes around comes around. If you take this to heart, then righting all the wrongs no longer falls on your shoulders. It’s a lot easier to not care about something if you believe it will take care of itself. Sure, it’s hard to embrace this belief, because it takes some blind faith—which is why it helps to remember times you’ve seen karma in action. (Or be a
naïve, delusional devout follower of any religion). Like that time your bitchass coworker got audited by the IRS. Or how the incompetent, sassy receptionist at your doctor’s office (is there any other kind?) got fired. Or the time that guy treated you like you were an Iraqi and he was Hillary Clinton, and you definitely gave him HPV. #who’sthelosernow? #yournextgirlfriend’scervix,that’swho
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