I was told at the age of seventeen that art would never get me anywhere in life.

So I have a message to all the young people that are just like me;

That don't get out much and would rather read, write, or draw than drink and ride.

That can't focus in school because the creative thoughts don't stop, and your grades suffer as a result.

That are constantly told that you won't succeed.

That are constantly told that you have to have a college degree to accomplish anything.

That are constantly told that a small-town kid can't do anything.

That are told "can't" too often.

That can't change oil in their car but can tell you the history of Tolkien.

That are constantly made fun of because they're different.

That think about ending their life because they're not normal and don't fit in anywhere.

That don't know what they want in life.

They can't sleep at night because their brain doesn't shut off like it's supposed to.

That dream dreams of making movies, art, or writing for a living.

That aren't able to imagine themselves in an office doing paperwork.

Whose voice isn't heard because they can't relate to what other people are talking about.

Who aren't invited to other places, events from your peers, or other functions.

Who are left out of the big things.

Who are forgotten in the back.

Talked down to.

Talked about negatively.

Whose buttons are pushed even by teachers who know the outcome of what they're doing.

Never stop.

Never quit.

Never succumb to your emotions.

Never back down.

Never walk away.

Don't.

Stop.

Making.

Art.

It may seem like there's no way for you to achieve your goals, to even start down the path to what you want. But there is.

You have to work for it.

You have to visualize it.

You have to pray for it.

You have to make it happen.

You have to manifest it.

But it's doable.

It's achievable.

It's right in front of you.

All you have to do is grab it and not let it go.

Don't listen to what everyone else says. Don't worry about what everyone else does.

You have more to offer than you think.

If I could turn back time and talk to my younger self...that conversation would take longer than the time spent reading this. Because he wanted to give up and didn't know what to do with himself.

He didn't like himself. He didn't love who he was. He didn't even want to be around for this. He was angry. He was hurt. He was alone.

But today?

Today he's me, and I'm on the phone listening to my grandfather tell me he's proud of me.

And that is my biggest takeaway of the day.