So that's not what this is about. This is about your. For the first time.
We all have it. It's in the back of your head. All the time. You know it's waste doing what it is that you're doing. It's all building up to something, but it's not what you want. You're not doing your work. You're doing the work someone else gave you. Why? Not because you don't have the itch. It's because you let them meditate your itch out of you. Their meditation has pushed your itch all the way to back of the head. And if you let them have their way, you wont have an itch to meditate over.
So I say screw that. Breathe how you want to. Hell, breathe to the tune of "We no speak Americano" if that's what you want to. And never, ever, under any circumstances, let go of your itch. Keep it with you. Even if you end up a forty year old guy, working a cubicle, pushing files, never let go of your itch. Because that's what separates us from animals.
Sometimes in life, there's just too much Bullshit we need to deal with. Take none of it. Others' ideals suck. Get stressed, get obese man. Get to where you want to be. Let your hurdles remember the day they became your obstacles as their last.
Down the line, truth might be something different and unplanned and unintended. But I'd rather have lived and died, rather than have died every second of of my life, and then died.