So Bad

"I feel a bit retarded and I know I shouldn't project the examples of others in different situations on to you now, but at least now you know why I'm weird. No pressure."
"I guess I'm just worried that I won't really have anything to do. I mean, I don't want to commit to this thing and then spend six months in the US for no reason... working for Starbucks or some shit."
"For me it's not just this thing, its my life. I can't afford to go back and do nothing. Or else I'll have nothing and be nothing."
"You are a guy and I am a girl. That worries me."
"I'm not asking you for life or death, or forever or never. All I'm asking is for you to try something. Make it easier. You have time, but not that much. When you look back on your life, will you be sorry that you did this?"
"What, exactly will I be doing?"
"I can't expect it to be your life, too, and I can't guarantee anything at all. All I can do is be so loud and persistent that you can't ignore me. I--this thing--needs someone else. Someone different. I'm expendable, the end is not."
"I need to process, it's a lot to unpack. Give me some time."
"I know ow this ends."
"It looks positive."
"Of course."

I want to start a record label. So bad.