So maybe it's just a drunken proclamation. Why is it that my spirit refuses to bow down and lay prostrate to the machinations of destiny?

And as I stood in front of the toilet pissing, I thought to myself: How can my heart be broken if I can still dream?

In this bleak hour of night, in the depths of the dark city, in the belly of the beast, I know no fear. Maybe it's the alcohol burning in my veins. But at this moment, I know something about myself that cannot be changed, that cannot be lost, that cannot be destroyed. Whatever havoc fate decides to play on my heart, whatever abyss my soul might descend to, I know that I AM, and that's all I need.