there’s no pretense.

Can I major in media photography and minor in medicine, english, broadcasting, advertising, sociology, music, mass communication, public relations, and anthropology?

Can I major in you?

I thought I underestimated how sick I was on Sunday and that my eyes were playing tricks on me when I saw the score of the Tottenham/Wigan match in the bus on my way to camp this morning.

“9-1?! No way! Holy Shit!”

I want to be part of the crowd.
Anfield. Emirates. Wimbledon. British Grand Prix.
Next year. Can’t wait. Hell yeah.

I want to study medicine.
I want to study english.
I want to study photography.
I want to study journalism.
I want to study broadcasting.
I want to study advertising.
I want to study sociology.
I want to study music.
I want to study mass communication.
I want to study public relations.
I want to study anthropology.
I want to study you.

You are never ready for anything.
The question is whether the other party is ready for you.
For your screw-ups, for your failures, for your weaknesses, for your imperfections.

Are you ready for me?

Maybe my expectations are too high, but it could have been worse.
But I’m glad this Giant was not a repeat of the last.

More or less, I’ve given my best to this final batch, and they did not disappoint.
At least not so much so that it hurts.

I want to be rich.
I want to be able to spend like I own the mint.
And when I am,

I want to be richer.

If God is for you, who can be against you?
If God is against you, it wouldn’t count for anything if the whole world is behind your back.

But it would mean nothing if I have none.
And the whole world is just me.
and
the you.
and the dreams,
we believe,
really do come true.

I don’t understand what the swear-word Rafa Benitez is thinking.

Ryan Babel for Fernado Torres.
Nathan Eccleston for Yossi Benayoun.

Garbage.

Come on Arsenal. Win the title for me.