Maybe I'm being naive. But I hate this reality that I wake up to everyday. Where I dread the same route of life that millions and millions of people share. We all crave meaning. In work or family or love or drugs or fame. Some die without finding it. That's what I'm afraid of. Not finding the reason for being alive. We don't even have a chance to live because we're too busy worrying about paying bills and checking Twitter. And I admit. I've been swallowed by this black hole of existance. But I want to be able to wake...