You only live once.
Eat, drink, be merry. Play late night games of frisbee in the pouring rain. Read anything you can get your hands on. But why blow this precious sip of life in the slammer because you thought it would be spontaneous and cute to steal something for no apparent reason? Why get wasted to the point where you're puking your brains out and remember nothing of it the next morning? Why do something you know will rain on someone else's single shot of life just for the hell of it? Why condemn yourself to fighting an addiction that will eventually kill you when there are at any time an infinite number of beautiful, meaningful things to be done, things that trigger that satisfaction you get when you've run to the point where you thought your heart would burst and then you collapse, powerless, on the ground and fall asleep?
If you were given a glass of water that was to be your first, last, only glass of water you would have the pleasure of drinking, would you slosh it around, pour some salt and some dirt in because it seemed like it would be fun, poke a hole in the side to watch it run out, all just so you could say you'd done it?
Or would you let that sweet liquid run through you, to the innermost core of your being and then radient through your fingers and your toes, until it was gone and you knew you had done your best?