“Can’t people just give me money to do whatever I want to do on my own schedule without expecting to receive any benefit to themselves or some sort of product they would enjoy within a reasonable time frame? Is that so much to ask?”

– Me, unironically

For most of my youth, I considered myself a directionless person with no idea what he wanted to do with his life. In actuality, I had always known what I wanted to do with my life – ever since I was a little kid drawing Dragon Ball Z characters in my notebook and imagining where the story would go if I was the one writing it. I wanted to be a storyteller in one way or another: writing, drawing, performing, whatever way I could.

But I was in denial of that passion because I also had another passion that was in direct opposition to it: to be fabulously wealthy and never have to worry about doing anything I don’t want to. And I was very familiar with the “starving artist” archetype and vowed from a young age that I wouldn’t go down that route.

I felt like I had a leg-up compared to my fellow creative youths – while they would doom themselves to poverty by pursuing education and careers in art, I knew the secret was to develop some sort of marketable professional skill that would net me a substantial income and a comfortable life so I can pursue my passions as hobbies unimpeded by financial stressors.

And yet, despite already knowing about this optimal strategy, I just could not make myself give a shit about developing any of these marketable skills. I could take all the coding or data analytics or finance classes that came my way, but at the end of it, I would rather spend my efforts telling my silly stories and dumb jokes.

So I’ve come to accept the fact that I’m more than likely never going to be rich. I just don’t think I’m the kinda guy who becomes rich. I mean, unless I get hit by the right car or something.

– James