What do you aim to provide, if a seventeen year-old kid can do it before you ever even thought of it? There’s no point to it then, wouldn’t you say? I mean, there’s no industry in being a has-been prodigy, ya dig? You either got it or ya don’t. The longer it takes to get that through your thick skull, the more miserable you’re gonna become. And I know, you’ll yell at me for six days, telling me that I’m wrong and you’ve always had the chance to become the next big thing. Well, have you ever proven me wrong? Sure, you’ll get up on that soapbox and give me some grandiose filibuster about the meaning of life and the philosophical necessity of achievement, fulfillment, egalitarianism and all that other bullshit, and I’m so sick of hearing it. Just because you say it a thousand times doesn’t mean it’s going to magically be proven right by the gods of redundancy. The gods of redundancy would rather be repeating themselves and giving all the luck to the Bush family.
WHARVED 