Make everything better. I mean, I got accepted at my internship (I was unemployed for about 16 hours), only skipped one class all week (which is a record of some kind for me, especially in 20 credits), got caught up on homework, had a very reasonable, solid show tonight, and got to hang out with some good friends, a number of whom I hadn't seen in quite some time. Had a couple of drinks with people, did a total of 9 hours of improv work, and got my entire life organized in a way that I think I can manage in the long-term. Life 2.0, you are every bit as awesome as you promised to be when I came back from Jersey and came across you. Now if only I could do something about this remarkably profound loneliness, I think things would be pretty much perfect.
-Richard
QOTD:
"So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid." - Good Will Hunting
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