I took to every nook and cranny, every crevice of how serious that moment was--to such an immeasurably peculiar degree.
I did. I truly did.

And so, uneducated on how to handle such pressures...I simply relied on what we have all come to commonly think of as a great defence. Fear.

And now...shame.

I come from (what I realistically imagine to be) a long line of attractive Nervous Nellies.

He has taken Resilience 101 for about five years now. Never graduating, of course, because he's far too consumed with how he panics during 'finals.'

Sure he's young, sure. To some, depending on where you are, even foreign. But ultimately, he's the peculiar result of being an infant once starved of oxygen and nothing more.

The optimist is thwarted from her lack of success.
The pessimist...through his failure.

It is said that empathy makes mention of its necessity rather naturally, often delicately, with small tugs and pssts, listen heres and 'reallys?'

But the truth is, empathy is rather loud, almost rowdy really, its inexplicably exhausting noisy jibber jabber never dropping to that all too needed, all too wanted, well pitched tone of a whisper we all seem to mutter and stand behind when lamenting someone else's unrelenting 'help me' bellow.

Let's say you're in the business of finding something more to abhor than simple stupidity.

May I suggest arrogance fueled by fear?

A wonderful world it would be if instilling confidence in a loved one were as simple as stabbing them in the back.

A fresh idea is one's best idea.

The detriment of youth...is eventual adulthood.

Her mother told her many fanciful and fictional things.
None more damaging, though, than that she loved her.

There are worse things than be compared to your mother.
Off the top of my head? Being compared to your father.

I secretly admire men who can convince other men to throw away their lives for sake of a flawed idea.

A dead man will always have something more to say.