It's easy to play the victim. It's easy to get angry, and even furious, at the state of the world. Let's be real: I am angry every single day. I don't want to have kids because I think the world is a decrepit wasteland, and the only thing running it is bills, sickness, and hatred. I don't even have access to universal healthcare, for f*cks sake.

But here's my advice, to you and myself: mindset.

I have wanted to run screaming from rooms. I have bitten my hands in fits of rage. I have sneered at others, cut people off, rolled my eyes at minor inconveniences.

Mindset. Someone said: no emotion is permanent. I have to do things I love to forget my rage. I go to the gym and run on the treadmill until I don't feel anger, or much of anything. I feel calm. I feel whole. I feel complete.

Mindset.

In order to go to the gym, one has to get out of bed. In order to go to the gym, one needs to pull on their big girl pants and suck it up in the traffic it takes to get there. One needs to sign in, and watch people watching them, perhaps even judging them. One needs to tie their sneaker's laces and suck it up, period.

My advice to anyone struggling is: it's all in your head. No emotion is permanent. It's all how you make it.

I'm not saying go to the gym, necessarily, but it's helped me.

One of my favorite memes of all time is: someone asks a man working at a grocery store if they can try the grapes. He says: I wouldn't care if you lit this place on fire with me in it.

Yeah, that: when I feel that, I go to the gym, and run until my mindset is once again mine - calm, whole, complete.

It's all only what you make of it.

Wake up grateful. Throughout your day, take it all in. Everything, whether it is a positive or negative experience brings you growth. Let it teach you, then remember the lesson taught. Don't say you can't do something, because you can do anything. Don't buy in to that "I'm too old" stuff....as long as there is breath in you - it is never too late. If it doesn't turn out exactly like you planned - at least you know you tried.

Think before you speak. Words are often felt harder than flying fists. The stinging memory of them can last a lifetime. Choose them well. Why tear someone down, when you can build them up. We are all going through something, and you truly don't know what is going on in another's life. Your choice of words or acts of kindness might be what they need. Be that person, the one who reaches a hand up, or offers words of support. Not only will they feel better, but you will too.

Stop stressing. All it will do is beat you down, don't let it. They say, "don't sweat the small stuff" and in the scope of life most things fall under "small stuff". If you came home tired from a job, had to decide what to eat, took a warm shower, and placed your head on a pillow in your home for a night's rest...look how blessed you are. Before you go to sleep thank God for all that you were blessed enough to see, hear, and do. If you are carrying a load that has you feeling beat, broken or just drained...place it in His hands and leave it there. When you look back over your life - look at all the hard and hurtful spots you found yourself in...by his grace and mercy you made it through. Every storm passes.

Raindrops crowded the outside of his window as he laid his head against it and let out silent cries into his sleeve. He was shaking with fear—fear of abandonment, fear of loneliness, and most importantly, fear of love, or rather, of a forgotten love. His room lit up in blue, a shade all too familiar with his current emotions. However, the silence in his room wasn’t known, at least not to him. He heard the voices screaming in his head so loud that he couldn’t hear his own thoughts. He was tired, he was alone, and as far as he was concerned, she’d forgotten all about him. He’s had nightmares each week about that Friday in September.

One abrupt message was sent, and in an instant, his entire world crumbled. He’s taken back to 3rd grade, back when naive promises of eternal friendship were made, back when your best friends all agreed you'd move in together one day, back when daydreamers and optimists all gleamed and were so in belief that their promises would withstand time. Still, strangely enough, he was never one of those people. He used to shake his head when his peers at school would all genuinely believe in that ignorant thought. Being a kid who moved school a lot and being a kid who wasn’t wanted or recognized enough shaped that mentality at a young age; he never once believed that those stupid promises his peers made were ever right. Well, until six months ago, he never thought that, but she made him feel like that. She made him feel loved, like maybe he was important. She single-handedly made him feel like their friendship was strong enough to last forever, that they’d see each other grow, that they’d be there for each other, and that would be the happy ending that would have been perfect for his whole life. But all good things must come to an end eventually, right? She left. She walked out of his life like it was nothing. What once was colorful all seemed dim now. He was left alone with his thoughts and emotions, with his demons screaming at him for being so foolish and believing someone could actually love and stay with him. He used to block them out. He used to block out what he liked to call the voices of reason. They were always there in the back of his mind; they would always remind him that they would never be the exception, and now they're just hoping he finally learned his lesson.

Two months have now come and gone since her disappearance. He laughs a little now and smiles a bit more. He’s just hoping the constant pain will go away eventually, but he supposes it’s bearable for now. He used to long for "Yesterday,” back before she left, when everything was normal, back when he was happy, but yesterday never came, but now he thinks of the day before yesterday, making yesterday tomorrow. She stood as a promise of always and forever. But if forever was just tomorrow, then tomorrow, he’d love her always. So, in the end, he supposes it was worth it; the months he spent with her were worth it; he had the opportunity to love her, and if that was all he could have gotten, it was worth it. He laughs and smiles a little now. He understands the need for those stupid promises, as he now sees they are something no one can take away. All that was lost in the flames was a lesson learned, even though their interlocking bridges and storybook pages had burnt. So make stupid friends and make them promise because it’s all worth it to love someone that much. Even if it doesn’t last “forever.”

Here is the best piece of advice I can give you.

Do it for the plot!

You don't need a reason to do things. You wanna do something crazy? Do it for the plot, baby! I know you would make your main character do it if it advanced the plot, so why would it be any different for you? You're writing your own story, make it fun to read.

Okay so I really struggle with coping with change, so much so that I usually get very agitated. Well last year was one of the hardest years of my life. I had gone through 4 cars and my house caught fire all in the span of 7 months. So I was thinking one night about how to handle changes better and it hit me like a hardback book to the head. When life throws you a curve ball an unexpected change or challenge just yell, "PLOT TWIST!' And keep going forward don't look backwards and feel bad. Just keep looking forward. Get determined to overcome this challenge this change and make it to the end of the book content and happy.

Advice is a lot like a particularly nasty, extra oozy, and exceptionally virulent case of genital warts. Some individuals are happy to give it, but most people are understandably not so willing to receive it. Keeping this bit of wisdom in mind, any advice I offer should be assumed to be given with tongue fully engaged in cheek. So, let me impart the kind of wisdom that only Shallowgenepool is capable of giving.

1. Not everyone is going to be as passionate about the thing(s) you are. For example, you may think that traditional Icelandic folk/death metal fusion is the most awe inspiring, poetic, and technically sophisticated music there is. Good for you. However, your friends and family may feel that your musical obsession sounds like someone anal probing a dolphin with a jack hammer wrapped in barbed wire sideways. My advice? Use earbuds or accept that if you don't someone is eventually going to sneak into your room and deafen you by repeatedly thrusting rusty icepicks into your ear canal so that you can experience something similar to the audio based, ear bleeding torture that your music visits on everyone else.

2. Don't give teenagers advice on sex. If Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet taught us anything, its that teenagers are both stupid and horny. Any advice you give will likely go unexamined as even the slightest chance of sexual activity will cause all blood flow to the teen's brain to be diverted to said teen's genitalia. Of course, a teenage brain that is deprived of oxygenated blood will be incapable of making anything remotely resembling a rational decision. My advice? Before the chance for adolescent coitus arises, show them a picture of the dirty diaper of a toddler who's recently been introduced to corn, prunes, and sweet potatoes, and then expose them to the banshee-like shriek of a two-year old being denied a dolly or Tonka truck in the toy section of Target. After that, all you can do is hand them a condom, and hope for the best.

3. Handling the in-laws. Your significant other may seem to share your opinion that being around your in-laws is about as fun as having a vasectomy performed with dull pruning sheers covered in battery acid, but you SHOULD NEVER be the first to criticize your honey's parents. This will lead to an immediate marital spat. Why? Because no matter how much your hubby/wifey may complain about their parents, the second you complain about them that dysfunctional parental/child relationship your significant other complains about and attends therapy for will suddenly take on a warm-fuzzy feel that was absent before. Miraculously, the spouse's parents that by previous accounts were chronic box wine swilling, passive aggressive, hot tub swingers with the neighbors suddenly become Ward and June Cleavers with a smattering of Mike and Carol Brady thrown in for a little extra delusion filled, and nauseating wholesomeness. My advice? Unless you're from the South, your in-laws won't be biologically related to you and will likely be significantly older than you. So, it is unlikely you will feel much of a familial bond with your mother and father in-law. In addition, you will likely outlive them. All you have to do is patiently bide your time and learn to fake a few tears for the funeral because the walking, talking, personification of hemorrhoids that are your in-laws will eventually have their plugs pulled.

4. Child Rearing. Hundreds of child rearing books have been written by Ph D's, pediatricians, nannies, teachers, psychologists, behaviorists, and even celebrities. Each book promises that if you follow the author's instructions you will be able to raise the most well adjusted, talented, smart, empathetic, polite child to ever be conceived from a night consisting of a shared Applebee's Special, cheap booze, and a forgotten condom. These books sell because parents are naturally unsure of themselves and often desperate to avoid the mistakes their parents made with them. What the books will never tell the parent, is that children are the most complex organisms ever to exist and NO ONE has all the answers. The mini humans are totally unique, forever evolving, random, shockingly observant, innately intelligent, emotionally complex, living, breathing manifestations of chaos. So basically, you can take any parenting book and have a good laugh because children are the universe's agents of anarchy and will not neatly conform to any theory put forth by some child development, "Expert." My advice? Love them, laugh with them, teach them that being a dick isn't okay, and most importantly, listen to them. You want your kids to understand that you are human and will make mistakes. You will receive the benefit of the doubt as much as you give it and you REALLY want to give your kiddos the benefit of the doubt. Why? Eventually, they will be in charge of your geriatric, end of life, diapers, and smuggled Viagra care. In short, you need to cut your cum fruit some slack because if you don't, they'll toss your Preparation-H covered ass in one of those roach filled, medication stealing, we'll feed them eventually, nursing homes you see on the news.

5. Relationships. Nothing is more confusing, frustrating, or potentially heartbreaking than navigating a romantic relationship. Getting to know another person and falling in love often requires that one or both potential lovers figure out how to lock their neurotic tendencies, weird kinks, past mistakes, and any time spent incarcerated in the strong psychological shackles created by a steady regimen of psychotropic medications. Each person in the relationship has to and play the long game, so that by the time your beloved figures out that you're a complete and total shit pile of abnormal psychoses they've invested too much time and energy in your sorry, secret monkey porn watching ass to leave. My advice? Try to be as honest as possible with your love while simultaneously hiding the fact that you wish you could open a brothel staffed by retirement aged women dressed like up like the Golden Girls.

There you have it. My idea of advice. I don't expect or recommend that anyone follow it. If you do decide to follow my advice please see below.

Any harm be it physical, emotional psychological, intellectual, or spiritual injury resulting from following any of the above advice is the responsibility of the follower. Really, who the flippity Foghorn Leghorn fuck would be brain dead, believe FOX News stupid enough to follow the advice of someone called, Shallowgenepool?

In high school, the aim was simple: get to college. For someone like me, raised on sardines and eggs, it wasn't just a goal but a dream. Lucky for me, my school was free.

College was the real battle. Costly. Yet, we believed it would lift our family.

Fortune smiled again though. Tutors from top colleges volunteered to mentor. One day, the principal singled me out. He knew me, somehow. "You," he pointed, "be here next Saturday."

I showed up. I put in the work. A mentor took notice. She handed me a college application. "Fill this," she instructed. The form questioned about fees. I ticked "scholarship needed." The entrance fee worried me. "Don't," she advised.

A telegram came months later, nearly overlooked. It confirmed I passed. Full scholarship. I was elated.

That mentor, however, vanished. I couldn't express my gratitude. Her full name escaped me.

Years flew by. I graduated, landed a decent job, and now mentor others. I work full time as a manger and I lead a non-profit part-time in the design field.