I think Layne Staley said it best-
I want you to scrape me, from the wall, and go crazy like you made me.
Tell me a story. Tell me that life has meaning. Even if it's a lie. Smile the same way a mother smiles when her childs asks if there's a Santa Claus and tell me that there's something to look forward to. Say there's a light at the end of the tunnel. That the good are rewarded and the evil are punished. That the monsters in the closet aren't real. Tell me something that isn't the truth because the truth is too much to bear. Tell me it's going to be alright.
I want you to scrape me, from the wall, and go crazy like you made me.
Tell me a story. Tell me that life has meaning. Even if it's a lie. Smile the same way a mother smiles when her childs asks if there's a Santa Claus and tell me that there's something to look forward to. Say there's a light at the end of the tunnel. That the good are rewarded and the evil are punished. That the monsters in the closet aren't real. Tell me something that isn't the truth because the truth is too much to bear. Tell me it's going to be alright.
I can say from personal experience that nothing makes a guy feel more meaningless and worthless than being without job and a home. Doesn't it follow that an absorbing job makes for a fulfilling life? I'm experimenting with this philosophy these days, and so far so good, I must say.
Misery is borne of dreams of glamour and material wealth. "You are not your fucking khakis."
It's been scientifically proven that strict Buddhists are the happiest people on the planet. To the extent that science can measure happiness through brain activity, anyway. But doesn't that make you want to punch buddhists in the neck?