You're nothing but a product. And what's this product called? Emptiness, dude, that's what it's called. And for the rest of your life, they sell you over and over, right to the end when they package you one last time and plant you in the ground.

It's more like I was daydreaming when the Supreme Being told me what I should do with my life, and it's too late to ask what it was.

Besides, it doesn't matter if it's real. It never does with dreams. They aren't anything anyway but lifesavers to cling to so you don't drown. Life is an ocean, and most everyone's hanging on to some kind of dream to keep afloat.

To hell with tomorrow. To hell with all problems and barriers. Nothing matters but the Spectacular Now.

Life is spectacular. Forget the dark things. Take a drink and let time wash them away to where ever time washes away to.

It's fine to live in the now. But the best thing about now is that there's another one tomorrow. I'm going to start making them count.

You think, 'Here's something I can hold on to,' but it always slips away.