By: Kathy Mak
Remember when you were a little monster running around the playground? Remember making a pinky promise with your close friends and, occasionally, yourself? Remember constantly breaking those promises? Well, welcome back to the good ol’ days of breaking promises! I’m a culprit myself, and I’ve broken many promises with my former idealistic self.
- I can fly, I can touch the sky . . .
One attempt of jumping off a hill and flapping my arms like crazy and then turning up all battered and bruised — streaked with mud and scars — pretty much completely killed all of my hopes of becoming the first human flyer in the Guinness Book of Records. - Spy kid
I used to think I could become some kind of CIA spy, but that was before I knew that there is some hard ass fitness training involved . . . no way would I sweat for that — or anything else for that matter. - Read every book in the world
Sorry, but I absolutely cannot read any more books with the same dystopian, romance, (or anything in between) plot that talk about a lone teenager facing the same bloody problems as any other person in the world. Guess what, you teenage wimp — that’s life. - Billionaire dreams
Don’t think I can ever become one if my measly piggy bank keeps getting emptied by tuition fees, textbooks, athletic fees, and everything else we’re scammed into paying. . . - Be happy
Being happy is an old myth we all heard about eons ago. In this century, all I see are panda eyes and yawning mouths everywhere because of soul-crushing midterms and finals. How can I make time to be happy when all of my professors conspired against me and scheduled all of my finals in the same week?? I only have time to study, struggle, and struggle some more.
