Life's ocean of disasters

Would you believe that the last time these skinned knees healed
It no longer amazed me like it used to and I hate to say it but...
Things they suddenly made a simple kind of sense
The horror, the madness, the helplessness of it all
That there is indeed beauty as well as blood
In life's ocean of disasters
These shattered dreams and dead promises
Will not stand forever like graves
But one day grow legs and slowly walk away
In between the tornadoes and stomped on untrue love letters
There will be those shining gentle moments
Like the last page in your favorite book or
How badly I miss my mother
But how much I've come to love my father
And you scream that it's been forever since
You witnessed blue fucking skies
But trust me when I say that,  yes
This too will pass, it will quiet
Literally nothing stays the same Just look to the clouds and you shall see
Always changing forever moving on again and again

Life's one worthwhile guarantee

Fight Club

Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who’ve ever lived.

 I see all this potential, and I see squandering.

 God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; 

slaves with white collars.

 Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, 

working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. 

We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place.

 We have no Great War. No Great Depression. 

Our Great War’s a spiritual war… our Great Depression is our lives.

 We’ve all been raised on television

 to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. 

But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. 

And we’re very, 

very 

pissed off.