The idea that we’ll never get the opportunity to produce our best work, that we’re wasting time, that we’re going to wake up one day and realize twenty years have passed and we’re still peddling in the same spot--that’s not exclusive to me.
What’s Wrong, McFly? Chicken?
A fear of heights or skittery-creeper-crawlies are pretty reasonable, given that falling a far distance could kill me and those skittery-creeper-crawlies could probably kill me too.
I Want to Read This Book
Crying at books has always been a staple. But what I wasn’t expecting, on that sunny Saturday morning in May, late into my junior year of high school, was to fear them.
