Can't take it with you when you die. . . .

I've been doing a lot of thinking, lately. Dangerous, I know. It all started with this video.

I'll give you a minute to watch it. . . .

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Done yet? Good.
What did this make you feel?

It got me thinking, why do material things make us feel important, yet, so empty?

Why do we use words like "nigga" "slut" "hoe" "bitch" etc. as terms of endearment?
Why do we degrade ourselves? Why do we fool ourselves into thinking that if we have this, or look like that, we will become truly happy? We are all guilty of it. And because of this,  I'm scared for our generation. I'm scared we will never find our own worth. We will all die one day without any of these possessions. Is our life really that meaningless, to only strive for money, the finest shoes/clothes, cars, houses? Or is it possible that we are destined for something greater? Something bigger than any of us can imagine? Maybe we are. We are too blinded. . .
I don't know. It's something to thing about. . . .