There Is A Time For Reciting Poems

Only In Chaos Are We Conceivable.

I’m Seventeen Years Old, My Name Is Juan García Madero, And I’m In My First Semester Of Law School. I Wanted To Study Literature, Not Law, But My Uncle Insisted, And In The End I Gave In. I’m An Orphan, And Someday I’ll Be A Lawyer. That’s What I Told My Aunt And Uncle, And Then I Shut Myself In My Room And Cried All Night.

What Twisted People We Are. How Simple We Seem, Or At Least Pretend To Be In Front Of Others, And How Twisted We Are Deep Down. How Paltry We Are And How Spectacularly We Contort Ourselves Before Our Own Eyes, And The Eyes Of Others...and All For What? To Hide What? To Make People Believe What?

Every Book In The World Is Out There Waiting To Be Read By Me.

…i Realized My Happiness Was Artificial. I Felt Happy Because I Saw The Others Were Happy And Because I Knew I Should Feel Happy, But I Wasn't Really Happy.