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Has it ever occurred to you that we spend our life chasing and wishing, never content? We chase others, brothers, and lovers under covers but never stop--not once-- to be present in the moment. To enjoy our happiness, our sadness, Yet, we allow ourselves to be swept away the madness and flow of life. For one second, I wish to be content. To not want more. More money to spend, more consumption, more fucking friends. But here I am, wishing and wanting, wasting energy, I’m sure. After all, I’m an American. All we know is to chase more. “More coffee, please?” It’s a sad and addictive, but satisfying disease.

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