And if your daughter came to you, crying with hunger, would you tell her no? Would you tell her she is too fat, she wants too much, she must shrink into society? No.
Then why would you tell yourself the exact same thing? You are somebody’s daughter.
High school, it seems, has changed. It has become competitive. Young men and women — 13 to 18 years old — must work more or less tirelessly to ensure their spot at a college deemed worthy to them and their families. So rather than living their adolescent lives — lives brimming with desires and vitality, with vim, vigor, and brewing lust — these kids are working at old age homes, cramming for tests, popping Adderall just to make the literal and proverbial grade. And for what? So they can go to a school that puts them in debt for the rest of their lives. School has become a great vehicle of capitalism: it quashes the revolution implicit in adolescence while simultaneously fomenting perpetual indebtedness.
do you ever think you’re special to someone but then you see this person acting the same with everyone else and you just kind of
I broke my own heart loving you.
"What if Walter White told stupid chemistry jokes instead of cooking meth?"