Well, my dad died when I was three.” Shoot. That’s right. Some of us have actual things to complain about.
Travel. Fly. Swim. Meet. Love. Dance. Win. Smile. Laugh. Hold. Walk. Skip. Jog. Run. Run home and enjoy. Enjoy. Take these verbs and enjoy them. They’re yours, Craig. You deserve them because you chose them. You could have left them all behind but you chose to stay here. So now live for real. Live. Live. Live. Live.
There’s so much more for me to be doing. I should be a success and I’m not and other people – younger people – are.
There’s a lot of yuppies in this place, and you have that look about you, you know – the yuppie look of people with money?” “Yeah.” “People who don’t care about other people.
Like in Animal Farm, which I read, all animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others?
If placebo effects were this good, they should just make placebos the way to treat depression – maybe that’s what they did; maybe Zoloft was cornstarch.
It’s so much more angry in my head than it could ever be outside.
It’s not a big thing, but I guess it’s true- big things are often just small things that are noticed.
The mother I’m completely over but the daughter I love to death. The mother I’d like to love to death.” “Heh.” “Don’t do me any favors; only laugh if it’s funny.” “It is!
A guy from Bear Stearns had visited our class, thin and bald with a gold watch. He told us that if we were interested in getting into finance, we had better work hard and smart because a lot of machines were able to make investment decisions now, and in the future, computer programs would run everything.
He asked the class how many of us were taking computer science, and everybody but me and this one girl who didn’t speak English raised their hands.
Great, excellent,” the guy had said. “You other people are out of a job! Heh heh. Learn comp sci.
Once the music starts he goes right into the Jimmy-verse, banging against his washboard and letting it all hang out in a piercing falsetto that’s surprisingly on key. The thing is, he doesn’t sing “I Shot the Sheriff.” He sings only one phrase: “How sweet it is!
I know that you’re not supposed to think about dancing – what is that stupid expression, Sing like no one’s listening, dance like no one’s watching? – whatever.
I knew too, but I didn’t like to think about that. Maybe it was stupid and solipsistic, but I liked to think about me. I didn’t want to be part of some trend. I wasn’t doing this for a fashion statement.
I ask the nurse wrapping up her dispensing duties if I need any meds, and she says I’m not scheduled for any. I ask her if I can have some. She asks what I need them for. I tell her, to deal with this crazy place. She says if they had pills for that, they wouldn’t need places like this in the first place, would they?
Ski. Sled. Play basketball. Jog. Run. Run. Run. Run home. Run home and enjoy.
You deserve them because you chose them.
Tiny places have all the drama and beauty necessary for a universe.
People always come and go.
There’s something about people who are the same age. It’s like you got piped out in the same shipment. You’ve got to stick together.