So don’t get me wrong, it’s not as if I’m not thankful for it or whatever, it’s just, God, sometimes I feel like I can’t take it, like all of it is going to tumble around me and end up in a shining heap on the floor, get all covered with dust and lint and little bits of hair sticking out of it until it resembles one of those piles of trash that everyone else calls dreams, maybe turn the colour of houses in the suburbs and bouncing, ringleted children with charming smiles and grass-stained soccer uniforms. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that, I’m just saying it’s not for me. It’s saying stuff like that that gets me in trouble, see, because lots of people don’t look any farther than that future, their suburbs, their lawnmowers, their neon light-up animatronic Nativity Sets ; they don’t know they can rule the world.