Homework hurts my soul, and that is not an attempt at comical hyperbole.

There is nothing more discouraging than the knowledge that you are about to apply yourself to something irrelevant, that you are about to unwillingly concede to dance like a little monkey and talk about Marta going to the supermarket, repairing her lawnmower and volunteering at the community center.

Just let me get drunk on the afternoon sun and sit empty-headed and lovesick, which is more important that all the God-damned textbooks in the world stacked on top of one another. There are destroyers of beautiful things, and don't ever forget that.