someday this will wash up on the shores of cyberspace like a message in a bottle and wonder who i was. whoever they imagine me to be is who i am, for how else can i justify my existance if not through the gaze of another? the eyes are not a window to the soul, but a mirror through which we can see ourselves for what we truly are, or at least what others percieve our true selves to be. Because at the End Of The Day, All I Am Is What You Say I Am.
things you learn at harvard
mediocrity tastes like blood in the back of your throat all i want is greatness. to know what it feels like to have a sense of mastery and expertise. to truly "get it". to what the view at the view at the top looks like. i just hate that im not there. when i cry i have a hard time breathing https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2_hQb3i-AlY
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