Read Online Letters To My Little Brother: Misadventures In Growing Older by Matt McKinney - Free Book Online Page B

Heat. ”
    CEO: “You’re very film literate. Bill, why aren’t —
    [CEO turns to see Bill jumping out of window.]
    CEO: “Look at Bill. Always finding a way out of doing work.”
    Okay, fine. The meeting went absolutely nothing like that. We mostly talked about my competencies and my strategy on how to move their company forward. Hopefully they liked it.
    It’s fascinating to have that first business meeting experience. You really don’t know what to expect (much like the aforementioned first time being seen naked). And, more importantly, it’s interesting to think about what the other person expected. Did they think I’d have a patchy beard? Did they think I’d be as serious as I was? Did they expect me to have more answers? Those same questions went through my mind about being naked. And a few more like, “Should I have trimmed that up a bit? What do you think of this mole right here? Why are your hands so rough? Do you do kettlebell or something?”
    So, in order to help you with your fruitless job search, here’s my advice: Be you.
    That’s it. It’s honestly the best piece of advice I can give you. Just be you. Be unique. Do what you do and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. The world is disgustingly monotonous and the best thing you can do for yourself is stand out from the crowd. It’s not just about differentiation in an oversaturated, overpopulated market, but it’s also about discovering the self worth to give a middle finger to the uninspired, unambitious, uninteresting, unhelpful world and saying, “You’re goddamn right I deserve to be here.”
    Think about it. You’ve got broad shoulders, a firm handshake, and a head that’s still attached to your neck. That’s three more things than a lot of people in this world can say for themselves. You have an education and you know what the “wherefore” in, “Wherefore art thou, Romeo?” means. You’ve read the both The Communist Manifesto and Player Piano . You’ve been to two other hemispheres and you’ve mastered throwing a slider. You might not think any of that makes you special, but how many other people do you know with all those traits? I’d bet exactly no one, right?
    Wait — did you actually think someone else out there is like you? Well fuck you for thinking you’re not special. Fuck you for thinking that you don’t have a voice and, even worse, thinking that you shouldn’t demand for it to be heard. Following your voice is the only thing in life that actually matters. I know we’re always chasing ass, money, and 15 minutes of fame, but what does that mean in the end? They don’t put “Matt McKinney — sexually and financially fulfilled, dull and soulless, only mildly interesting husband, father of two kids, owner of a dog and a house with a white picket fence” on your tombstone. So why the hell should that be your final goal in life?
    When I was debating whether quit my job a few months ago, you didn’t answer the phone the seven or eight times I called you, so you never learned the real reasons I resigned. Here they are:
    I was becoming a drone. My life was dictated by someone else’s terms, not my own. I buzzed around from task to task, laying more and more anxiety on myself until taking notes felt like toeing the rocky line between life and death.
    I was becoming a clone. I was just like everyone else. I learned what to wear and who to talk to and what to say. I learned what was good and what was bad, what was right and what was wrong. After a few months of looking in the mirror, I didn’t recognize the shade of the man I staring back at me. I was slowly losing my individuality — my love for language, Supreme Court rulings, confronting authority — because it would make me a better employee.
    I was becoming an empty suit. Unique thought was encouraged, but only if it stayed silent. I was told to keep my head down and my mouth shut. I learned that the tallest blade of grass is the first to be cut down. I