Удар молнии

Мечты на деревьях не растут, детка. Их нужно растить самому.

Может быть, я так погряз в своих печалях, что позабыл о том, чего достиг на самом деле?

Никогда не думал, что однажды мне будет нечего сказать.

Даже интересно, чего я смог бы добиться, если бы сам себе не мешал.

Я так и не закончил школу. Не уехал в Северо-Западный Университет. Не написал для Нью-Йоркера. Не получил Нобелевскую премию и не изменил мир . Я навсегда остался в Кловере. Это были лишь фантазии, занимавшие мое время и, слава Богу, что они были. Потому что жизнь без смысла, без мотивации, без цели, без надежды и мечты не стоит того, чтобы ее проживать…

Я так сильно хотел, чтобы меня услышали, что никогда не задумывался о том, чтобы слушать. Правда, больше всего я сожалею о том, что жил каждый день в ожидании момента, когда моя жизнь, наконец, начнется.

“Vicki, do you have your weather report ready?” I asked.
She looked at me, clueless—correction, she took an iPod earbud out of her ear and then looked at me, clueless.
“What?” she asked.
“Your weather report?” I repeated.
She half-consciously gazed out the window for a second. “It’s cloudy,” she said, and put the earbud back into her ear.
“Great,” I said. “Thank you, Vicki.” At least it was progress.

And if this daily war zone wasn’t enough, survivors then make their way inside to an even more hazardous environment: high school, society’s bright idea to put all the naïve, pubescent, aggressive youth into one environment to torment and emotionally scar each other for life. Way to go, society! Best idea ever.

"To Grandma:
Once upon a time,
there was a boy who flew".

I don't think the magazine could have started any better. And seeing that in the front of my magazine gave me a feeling I'm not sure I've ever felt before; I think it made me HAPPY.

I guess even then I thought laughing at someone's dream was one of the cruelest things one person could do to another.

"Dude, you can't blame me", he said.
"Yeah, I can", I said. "I can blame you MUCHO". Luckily, I had one more yellow flyer left I had been planning on saving for a scrapbook. "This is for you, SI SE PUEDEophile".

Their breathing became louder and louder and louder, they pulled each other's hair, tongues were united — it was FIFTY SHADES OF GRINGO!

... inteligence is sexy. There's something about being someone who's mentally conscious that turns me on.

You can’t let your origins bring you down, though. You don’t get to pick where you’re from, but you always have control of where you’re going.

If it sounds overwhelming to you, just think about how I feel living up to my future self every day. It’s exhausting!

I’ve put seventeen good years into this town. People spend less time in prison for murder sentences.

Do you ever find yourself in those "dear God in heaven how did I get here" situations? The kind that make you think "please kill me now death couldn’t be any worse than this" type of thoughts? Me too.