Poem from Before Sunrise

Daydream delusion, limousine eyelash / Oh baby with your pretty face / Drop a tear in my wineglass / Look at those big eyes / See what you mean to me / Sweet-cakes and milkshakes / I'm a delusion angel / I'm a fantasy parade / I want you to know what I think / Don't want you to guess anymore / You have no idea where I came from / We have no idea where we're going / Lodged in life / Like branches in a river/ Flowing downstream / Caught in the current / I carry you / You'll carry me / That's how it could be / Don't you know me? / Don't you know me by now?

From Before Sunrise

I believe if there's any kind of God it wouldn't be in any of us, not you or me but just this little space in between. If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone sharing something. I know, it's almost impossible to succeed but who cares really? The answer must be in the attempt.

From Waking Life

A self-destructive man feels completely alienated, utterly alone.

He's an outsider to the human community.

He thinks to himself, "I must be insane."

What he fails to realize is that society has, just as he does,

a vested interest in considerable losses and catastrophes.

These wars, famines, floods and quakes meet well-defined needs.

Man wants chaos.

In fact, he's gotta have it.

Depression, strife, riots, murder, all this dread.

We're irresistibly drawn to that almost orgiastic state...

created out of death and destruction.

It's in all of us. We revel in it.

Sure, the media tries to put a sad face on these things,

painting them up as great human tragedies.

But we all know the function of the media has never been...

to eliminate the evils of the world, no.

Their job is to persuade us to accept those evils and get used to living with them.

The powers that be want us to be passive observers.

Hey, you got a match?

And they haven't given us any other options...

outside the occasional, purely symbolic,

participatory act of voting.

You want the puppet on the right or the puppet on the left?

I feel that the time has come to project my own...

inadequacies and dissatisfactions...

into the sociopolitical and scientific schemes,

Let my own lack of a voice be heard.