It’s true. You really don’t complain enough. You’re too happy with your lot in life, too satisfied with mediocrity, too tolerant of the bland and vanilla flavored days and weeks and months that occupy your time and fill out your experiences. Life has the potential of being this amazing trip, an astonishing adventure in a wild and miraculous universe, an epic battle against evil, or a thrilling ride of hedonism and carnal satisfaction. It doesn’t have to be a drop of nothing in a bucket of ennui at the back of dark room in a dank cellar inhabited by unfulfilled dreams, broken promises, and lost causes.

You have to start complaining about where you are. You have to start complaining about what you’ve got. You have to start complaining about the raw deal the world has given you and the meak and impotent response you’ve given to that deal. You are capable of more than this. You deserve more than this. You need more than this. Don’t live your life on the sidelines. Don’t waste your life on the backbenches. Don’t sit down in a cubicle and fill out paperwork all day. Get out there and take what you want, do what you want, and feel what you want.

Don’t apologize, either. You don’t need anyone’s permission to want the things you want or to feel the things you feel. You’re better off living on your own terms and being kicked out of polite society, than living in that society by sacrificing your happiness at the altar of social conformity. Don’t conform to a deformed world. Our society is defective, it’s got two heads and seven eyes and a club foot and a mullet. It’s an ugly beast, and you’ll make yourself ugly by trying to win its favor.

Win your own favor instead.

Complain, and yell, and piss, and moan until you get so fed up of living the life you’re living that you go wild and start living the life you’ve always wanted to live but were too cowardly to pursue.