What the devil is the point of surviving, going on living, when it's a drag? But you see, that's what people do.

You are that vast thing that you see far, far off with great telescopes.

But we try to pretend, you see, that the external world exists altogether independently of us.

But at any rate, the point is that God is what nobody admits to being, and everybody really is.

No valid plans for the future can be made by those who have no capacity for living now.

The clock holds me nowhere. Nowhere. Nowhere. There is nothing else but now and the shifting depth of the night. I sit at a table alone smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee and listening and surviving. I should not be here or anywhere. I should not be breathing or taking space. I should not have been given this moment or anything else. I should not have this opportunity again to live. I do not deserve it or deserve anything yet it is here and I am here and I Have it all of it still. I won't have it again. This moment or this chance they are the same and they are mine if I choose them and I do. I want them. Now and as long as I can have them they are both precious and fleeting and gone in the blink of an eye don't waste them. A moment and an opportunity and a life, all in the unseen tick of a clock holding me nowhere. My heart is beating. The walls are pale and quiet. I am surviving.