I was a boy that age once, and I know that 97.7 percent of their bodies are semen and the 2.8 percent is an incendiary device for spraying it.
I'm watching you, big boy, my eyes say, but his are closed so it's an optical monologue.
There is a rational part of my brain and it says, Don't zap them, Warren. Ask questions first, find out who they are and why they're here, on your doorstep, lurking, banging. Find out their hopes and dreams. Offer them a glass of water. And that part...
The sociopaths, that's the real problem. The whole street demeanor is about pretending to be a sociopath as well, so that the real ones can't find you.
Forgiveness comes later in life, after you've created enough disasters of your own.
People aren't social, they're tribal. Race doesn't exist, but tribes are fucking real.
