I want to tell you what the sky has done to me but I won't and I hope you can imagine. I believe that people die because of nostalgia; the thought of their tricycle from kindergarten is like a gun in the mouth. Your first girlfriend is the noose around your neck. You remember the smell of Christmas and you feel the razor across your wrists.

Nostalgia is so pervasive that, in fact, despite the fact that you think you hate your guts right now, you will remember this as a great time in your life. Remember that.