My life is ticking away one subway token at a time - a never ending pirouette of arriving and departing, pushing through turnstiles, nodding goodbye and hello. In eight hours I'll be allowed to turn around and go home.

People might gain insight the longer they live, but things never get easy. There will always be challenges and miscommunications and the temptation to eat greasy, bowel clogging fried food, and take others for granted. The secret is to keep moving and try to see people yo love for what they are: flawed, beautiful and as confused as you.

Being unique is highly over rated.

There has to be a better use for titanium than golf clubs.

People never realize how much work impacts there self esteem and sense of purpose until they leave a job.

False hope is the bread - and - butter of my existence, the only thing that keeps me going.

Are people happier with a smaller range of experiences?