I can remember staring at the orphanage and feeling envy.
I was a loner as a child. I had an imaginary friend - I didn't bother with him.
Inside every cynical person, there is a disappointed idealist.
By the age of six or seven, I was already doing voices and faces, making my friends and my mother laugh.
I do this real moron thing, and it's called thinking. And apparently I'm not a very good American because I like to form my own opinions.
One can never know for sure what a deserted area looks like.