I used to look at all those foolish, materialistic people around me and wonder, “how could anyone derive meaning from inanimate objects?”
I used to think that I had everything all planned out, that twenty years from now would be just like twenty seconds from now.
I used to have a little faith. But now, nothing seems so sure anymore. I finally (kind of) understand why people strive for glory, seek fame, amass wealth. There’s a satisfaction in it that’s so immediately gratifying, so satisfying, and for just one second in your life you believe that you actually mean something. There’s a tide in the affairs of men, which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Who knew a dead guy understood so much?
I used to believe in something, but now I’ve forgotten what it was.


