Waiting waiting waiting. We are always waiting. For test results, for our favourite show to come on, for that guy we've been messing around with to ask us out. Websites can tell you how many seconds you've been alive for and how many times you've blinked and how many hours you've spent sleeping, but they'll never let us know how long we've been waiting. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for our moment. If they did tell us it would be something like 99.99999% of your life has been spent waiting. We wait to be old enough to go to elementary school to go to high school to go to university to go to graduate school to get a job to get a better job to buy a house, a wedding, a family, to send your children into the same inane cycle of waiting. We love books and we love movies because the people in those stories don't wait. They don't have a chance. Life comes at them so fast because it has to because it is pretend. They have reactions because they have no reaction time and they have happy endings because they are not infinite. We don't want to wait so we try things. We try to have adventures. Real life adventures. No one's slaying dragons here. We toke and smoke and snort and guzzle and shoot and fuck and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Because when everything's moving so slowly it doesn't feel like waiting. Because when everything's moving so quickly there isn't any time for waiting. Because when the floor is spinning underneath the girl you're fucking, you are doing. You're not waiting. So we develop bad habits. Which become bad addictions. And because of a book written thousands of years ago we condemn the doers and commend the waiters. The ones who refrain from life because they are waiting for something bigger and better. This is as good as it gets friend. There is no Great Perhaps. There is no cloudy palace filled with golden harps and angelic singing. "Heaven and Hell are one breath away." So breathe. Breathe and live and fuck up and go crazy and lose all your morals and do or die. Die and live or live! and do.