There are sixty seconds in a minute
And not a hundred
Ten commandments but only seven deadly sins
Murder is when you meant it
Manslaughter is when you didn't
There aren't any corners
When you smooth out the edges
And nothing rhymes with orange

Your legacy is constant surprise
While you push the square peg of completeness
Into the round hole of consistency
Try your hardest
to deny everything you know is true
And that's your greatest talent

Built to do anything
You find it so easy to do nothing
To be passive is a kind of activity
And the long hot summer
followed by the cold hard winter
both give you the motive,
the method,
and the opportunity.

And in the meantime,
while everyone's telling you to
straighten up and fly right
Haven't you got the tiniest suspicion
right there in the back of your mind
- that they're full of shit?

And if so -
why haven't you come up with anything better?
working hard at school taught you how to work hard at school
And you wanted to be a rock star
or an astronaut or a show jumper
or whatever it was - and are you?

You want to want for nothing -
And what will you want then?
Do you have an answer?
Do you even have a plan?
Face yourself in the mirror
And imagine you have everything -
What does it feel like?
When you wake up and have everything?
Are you going to kill yourself?
Or not? You decide.

At every stage,
when you get told that you're wasting your time,
shut them all out and ask yourself
"What is my Will?"
And you must be honest with yourself.
If it helps,
imagine a perfect lie detector
attached to a sword,
listening to your every answer,
with the point resting snugly
against your chest.
Or the most important exam of your life
for which this is the only question.
At all times,
In all places -
"What is my Will?"