I have had a hard life. In my own context these words seem hollow, yet they are true. No, our world did not bear down on me with its harshness. I have not suffered at the whim of random things. I do not bear scars, and my loved ones are safe, but I say again, I have had a hard life. I am not acquainted with adversity, and yet my twenty four short years have torn viciously at my body and mind. Life in our North American paradise has stripped away my health, my prowess, my skill, my wit, my ambition, and my love of beauty, and replaced it, layer by layer, with complacent indifference.

Inside each person is a warrior, though most people do not know it. I see him sometimes when I catch a sideways glance, but he's buried deep beneath a fat and listless facade - a facade that has grown so thick it has nearly crushed him inside. This warrior was put there when we were created, by God or nature or chance or in whomsoever you believe, to guide our choices, and to give us the strength to never, ever submit, until our very incorporation dissolves forever. He is impatient, ambitious, diligent, and has a longing for the elusive gift of peace that can never be sated. He is the source of our strength, our will to accomplish, yet when there is no fight, he sleeps, and when he sleeps too long, he begins to die. There is nothing to replace him. No peaceful will shall take his place, for on Earth, peace is no will at all - it is only surrender.

Some time ago, the striving of our predecessors bought us so much that we ceased to strive ourselves, and the warrior inside each one of us began to die. The need for him is not gone - our world is still plagued with threats around every corner - yet we let him sleep, as we sit on our couches and watch our televisions, and convince ourselves that this is the right way. Now we strive only for conformity. We race toward petty rewards like a child to a treat, and deny ourselves the joys of confidence and enlightenment. We build walls around ourselves and each other to shut out whatever tiny sting the world has left, and spend every effort on the pursuit of escape. Not escape from harm or adversity, but escape from life itself.

I've learned that if you want to be happy, you must come into your own. Take charge of your existence and know it for what it is - your only chance at true contentment. Disregard what you are told is correct, what is expected of you, and shed every vitriolic comfort that's blurring your vision until you see, clearly, what you really are. You are HUMAN. You were not made to wallow in comfort. You were made to work for it. Not in a bland routine that you fit between golf games and vices and trips to the movie theatre. Not in fruitless toil that asks nothing of your body or your mind. In LIFE! And only the most shallow among you will ever find in this sheltered life what it is that you seek. Purpose, ecstasy, pride - these things are not for sale, and so here, in the land of the consumer, they will elude you forever.

There is a question that I must answer now, for I am not a motivational speaker or an accomplished self-help expert. I don't hold the secret to instant riches, winning friends, finding love. I am not Dr. Phil. I am nobody. So who the hell am I to tell you what it is that will make you happy? I'm just an ordinary man who has done everything the wrong way for far, far too long. I am someone who knows, better than a young man ought to know, the bitter consequence of giving onesself to endless prosperity. When the warrior inside each of you believes that there is no hope left, you will die. If you're still breathing, there's still time. I found my warrior the other day, and I found out that he's been whispering in my ear all along. I think I'm going to start listening now.