I wrote this in 1998, when I was 20 years old. I’m posting it here with no edits.
I am pleased to say that I have mostly followed my own advice.
Note: the part about integrity right after I displayed my love of being inscrutable was meant to be a little inside joke. I’m funny like that (or at least, I think I am).
To be taken with a grain of salt
Make friends of your enemies.
Celebrate diversity, sometimes; other times, transcend superficial differences.
Reveal your heart; be vulnerable.
Know when to speak up; know when to shut your mouth.
Embrace others suffering as your own.
Give firm, bone-crushing hugs.
Look for trouble.
Never be content.
Listen to loud music.
When no one’s around, drive fast.
Tell the neighbors to go to hell.
Bake them cookies.
Call your grandmother and tell her you love her.
Talk to little kids; pretend they are adults.
Ask kids their opinion; take their ideas seriously.
Sometimes, dress sloppy; other times, dress up.
Never be typecast.
Integrity, integrity, integrity.
Watch leaves fall.
Admire the sunset, the sunrise.
Go out for coffee, even though you have some at home.
Be careful which leaves, though.
Sing to plants – sing to yourself.
Treat your pets like friends.
Be serious, be silly.
Laugh at yourself.
Do little things for others; don’t tell anybody.
Take showers with your lover.
Have tickle-fights. Win.
Sometimes, watch the news; other times, watch The Simpsons.
Stop to smell flowers.
Smile back at daisies.
Let snowflakes melt on your tongue.
If you like someone, say so.
If you don’t, find out why.
Be creative with food.
Build your own furniture.
Bicycle to work.
Lie down on the floor – on your back – stretch out and relax.
Learn to play an instrument; go outside to practice.
Smile at passersby.
Live in the city; live in the country.
Plant trees. Name them.
Learn a second language. And then a third.
Take only what you need.
Share food with friends; split the cost.
Tell your friends you love them; tell them why.
Watch the Discovery Channel.
Watch the Muppets – they’re still funny.
Leave work and drive to the coast – watch the sun set – and then go home.
Wear scandalous underwear.
Gaze at the stars; wink back.
Howl at the moon.
Let your dog kiss you.
Don’t look at the clock.
Put up Dilbert strips.
Smile, for no reason at all.