One day, you and everyone you love will die. And beyond a small group of people for an
extremely brief period of time, little of what you say or do will ever matter. This is the
Uncomfortable Truth of life. And everything you think or do is but an elaborate avoidance
of it. We are inconsequential cosmic dust, bumping and milling about on a tiny blue speck.
We imagine our own importance. We invent our purpose—we are nothing.
Enjoy your f*cking coffee.