Meditation is Impossible

This may be a shock to some of you who know me in real life and can testify to my both my chiseled physique and limitless professional success, but I have zero discipline or focus. If something feels good in the moment, I do it. See a donut? Eat it. Link looks fun? Click it. No condom? Eh, she wasn’t coughing. Fuck it. I’m this close to having oven mitts duct taped to my hands so I don’t get arrested for masturbating on public beaches.

The only time I’ve had an ounce of willpower in my life is when, as a teen, I was pumped full of the ADD medication Dexedrine, and I’m not even sure that counts. I suppose it does, in the same way Barry Bonds officially hit 73 home runs–willpower with an asterisk. Unfortunately, I can no longer obtain Dexedrine because doctors are convinced no grown man actually needs to take the stuff and I’m just going to sell it at a local high school.

So, as a Hail Mary to calm my ADD-bukkake of a brain, I’ve turned to meditation after a doctor suggested it. And let me tell you something: It’s impossible. Who the hell ever thought of telling a person who can’t focus that the treatment for his malady is focusing really hard. AA doesn’t consist of telling drunks to not drunk. Weight Watchers doesn’t say “Hey, fatties, don’t shove food in your oink slots. That’s it, see you next week.” So, it looks like I’m doomed to a life of surfing the Internet for pornography and kitten pictures (never the twain shall meet) every second I get bored. That fact would really depress me if I could focus on it long enough to let it.