Okay, so it's the closing hours of... well everything. The Mayans, who couldn't predict their end at the hands of the Conquistadors, foretold that the world will end sometime in the next 24 hours. Of course, this is nonsense, but let's assume for a second that they're right, and all my efforts to save the world (basically drinking and partying) fail. I'm not worried about how it'll happen, or what it'll be like. I'm worried about dying and not getting to say what I have to say. The most important thing I'll ever say, ever again.
I love you.
And you. You too, over there in the back. All of you. Even you, right there. All the family, the friends I've had, the loves, the haters, the critics and the supporters. I love each and every last one of you. More than any of you can possibly realize. The experience of knowing you, of being in the presence of your words and emotions, good and bad, has shaped me into who I am and who I've tried to be. Even if I haven't spoken to you in years, or we just talked yesterday.
I'm going to do everything I can to save us (read: party and drink). In the event I'm not successful, you should know this. And if I am successful...
Th world as we know it should end. The hatred should be replaced with love. The apathy should be exchanged for compassion. Division should be countered by unity. There's more that we have in common than we have different. Remember that.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have a world to save.