“Foreword: Hey guys. Loveless Mel here. Welcome to LifeHax, the blog of my young intern Destry. What you are about to read is a word vomit explosion of his very unique mind. I was sitting here looking over it asking myself, “How can one person jump from point to point so fast with any warning? Like seriously, what did I just read?” With that said, Young Des will eventually become one of your favorite bloggers. Trust me. This guy is hilarious! So now, I’ll jump out of the way of this post I made him do (yeah, I did. I’ll admit it). Now that he has this out of the way, I know that he will entertain you guys for weeks to come. Just thought I should warn you. Ok, I’m off to draw or something. Have at it. -Mel“
Isn’t that the coolest title ever? I’ve grown to have this newfound love for multi-talented people. When I say that, I don’t mean people who can rub their stomach and pat their head – even though that shit’s hard and I can’t do it – but the people who are unknowingly amazing at various things. When I look back into my childhood, I knew deep down that being an artist was my calling. I may sound cocky or arrogant, but since I was five and excelled in the work of drawing suns on the corners of paper, I knew I was destined to be an artist. Although, like most little kids, I had dreams bigger than the universe itself… my first overzealous dream was that of being a damn architect!
Usually it had no actual meaning at all: I would randomly yell at my mom that I would want to be something new. Through all this she never took my dreams lightly. It was like a weekly thing. Mondays, I wanted to be a building sketcher; Tuesdays, a construction worker because I enjoyed giant yellow vehicles (minus school buses). Weekends I was a full-time game enthusiast and animator. By the end of each day, I felt I had attained what I needed to be what I dreamed of in that point in time, from a Sega Genesis to constructing buildings with legos. But you know what really peaked my interest lately? Being a fucking baker…
But I can’t bake for shit.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love cooking. I’m good at it too… Well at least when it comes to anything besides baking. I figured this out on a nice saturday morning: I was feeling brave, so I got the idea, “Yo, I’m about to make some bomb-ass homemade biscuits from scratch!” I took the correct precautions of thoroughly searching through google for “how-tos” and “can you make this shit with just flour and water because of the struggle?”
I’m thinking, “Okay I got this; it can’t be to tough to do.” So after one hour of boosting my confidence enough to face the oven, I started whippin’ the dough. Lacking a rolling pin, I had to go in raw and shape the biscuits myself. Once everything was ready, it was game time…Well, 25 minutes later – after I’ve already taken 20 instagram pictures calling myself “The Chef” and shit – the biscuits… came out looking like dried shellfish; as dense as one too!
The moment I opened the oven I had an ominous feeling in my ear that said with a soothing voice, “Nah fam”. They were so bad I couldn’t even bite into one. Neither could my dog; I’m pretty sure he buried it, actually… Have you ever, like, never finished eating something or burned something, and to avoid anyone seeing it you put it at the bottom of the trash and covered it so no one would ever know? Well, yeah… The tears I shed couldn’t have moisturized those biscuits: the shell was too thick. I didn’t have enough PP to use the move Saturate; Nurse Joy couldn’t bring ’em back.
So yeah, that shit didn’t work. Needless to say, I think everyone should take time out to explore their other talents, or even look back on some memories and things they wanted to be – or, hell, may still want to be… Just work for it. You’ll get there.
Ps. I like to hear things from people, what you wanted to be at first, and if you stuck to that dream, or what you do now opposed to it, tell me anything I actually read shit so fucks with ya boy!