I’d rather chase the sun than wait for it.
Personally, I think sex should be like math.
No one really cares if they’re crap at math. They even proclaim it. They’ll say to anyone, “Yeah, I don’t mind science and English, but I’m absolutely shithouse at math. And other people will laugh and say, “Yeah, me, too. I wouldn’t have a clue about all that logarithm shit.”
You should be able to say that about sex, too.
Sometimes people are beautiful.
Not in looks.
Not in what they say.
Just in what they are.
Allyx’s Favorite First Person Narrator
“At nineteen, Bob Dylan was a seasoned performer in Greenwich Village, New York.
Salvador Dali had already produced several outstanding art-works of paint and rebellion by the time he was nineteen.
Joan of Arc was the most wanted woman in the world at nineteen, having created a revolution.
Then there’s Ed Kennedy, also nineteen…”
Ed is the narrator and protagonist of I Am the Messenger, by Markus Zusak. He’s a cab driver. He has a dog named the Doorman, who only drinks coffee and smells like ass. He’s in love with his friend, Audrey, but doesn’t have the guts to ever act on it. He is acutely aware of his lack of success, but isn’t an annoying little bitch about it. He acts the way I’d probably act if all I’d accomplished was conning my way into a job as a cabbie.
Ed is smart. He reads people, and you get the feeling that the only reason he fails so much is because he expects himself to. And his self-deprecation is what makes him stand out to me.