quinta-feira, novembro 28, 2002

This is your life...

This is your life, good to the last drop. It doesn't get any better than this. This is your life and it's ending one minute at a time. This isn't a seminar, this isn't a weekend retreat. Where you are now you can't even imagine what the bottom will be like. Only after disaster can we be ressurected, it's only after you've lost everything that you're free to do anything. Nothing is static. Everything is evolving. Everything is falling apart.

This is your life, it's ending one minute at a time.

You are not a beautiful and unique snowflake, you are the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We are all part of the same decaying compost heap. We are the all singing, All dancing crap of the world. You are not your bank account. You are not the clothes you wear. You are not the contents of your wallet. You are not your bowel cancer. You are not your grande latte. You are not the car you drive. You are not your fucking khakis.

You have to realize that someday you will die. Until you know that, you are useless.

I say, may I never be complete. I say, may I never be content. I say, deliver me from swedish furniture. I say, deliver me from clever art. I say, deliver me from clear skin and perfect teeth. I say, you have to give up. I say, evolve and let the chips fall where they may.

You have to give up...

Welcome to Fight Club, if this is your first night, you have to fight.

Tyler Durden

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