Ok, he is good in writings about bla bla bla-our lives and sometimes I even like it. No. I do like it. Though I think it is more just a popularity of the problems in our age, than real issue.
Anyway, I like this. Because it gives me hope.
If I worked at Starbucks, instead of writing people’s names on their coffee cup, I’d write the following:
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.
I want his book, of course.