Is it that we collectively thought Steve Jobs was a great man, even when we knew he made billions off the backs of children? Or maybe it’s that it feels like all our heroes are counterfeit. The world itself’s just one big hoax. Spamming each other with our running commentary of bull**** masquerading as insight, our social media faking as intimacy. Or is it that we voted for this? Not with our rigged elections, but with our things, our property, our money. I’m not saying anything new, we all know why we do this, not because Hunger Games books makes us happy but because we wanna be sedated. Because it’s painful not to pretend, because we’re cowards. F*** society.
There’s only one thing I know about life. I know some things happen by chance. And some things happen because we make them happen.
Joyce, this is Hawkins, okay? You wanna know the worst thing that’s ever happened here in the four years I’ve been working here? Do you wanna know the worst thing? It was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie’s head because it thought that her hair was a nest.
Things aren’t always what they seem. Our fears can play tricks on us, making us afraid to change course, afraid to move on, but usually hidden behind our fears are second chances waiting to be seized. Second chances at life… at glory… at family… at love. And these opportunities don’t come around every day. So when they do, we have to be brave, take a chance, and grab them while we can.
It is the impractical things in this tumultuous hellscape of a world that matter most. A book, a name, chicken soup. They help us remember that even in our darkest hour, life is still to be savored.