fight club
Fuck Martha Stewart. Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic; it's all going down, man.
I say never be complete. I say stop being perfect. I say let's evolve. Let the chips fall where they may.
You're not your job. You're not how much money you have in the bank. You're not the car you drive. You're not the contents of your wallet. You're not your fucking khakis. You're the all-singing, all-dancing crap of the world.
No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly slide.
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