Will hated Christmas, for the obvious reason: people knocked on his door, singing the song he hated more than any song in the world and expected him to give them money.
Nick HornbyTags: humor
A la mayoría de la gente le cabe en la cabeza el suicidio, supongo; la mayoría de la gente, aunque lo tenga muy oculto en lo más profundo de sí misma, puede recordar alguna vez en la vida en la que pensó si realmente quería despertar a la mañana siguiente. Querer morir parece una parte de estar vivo.
Nick HornbyTags: nick-hornby a-long-way-down en-picado
Talán mi túl magas lángon éljük az életünket, mi, akik egész nap érzelmes dolgokat szívunk magunkba, és emiatt aztán soha nem tudjuk egyszerűen csak elégedettnek érezni magunkat: az kell, hogy vagy boldogtalanok legyünk, vagy eksztatikusan, észveszejtően boldogok, márpedig ezeket az érzelmi állapotokat nehéz elérni egy stabil, nyugodt kapcsolaton belül.
Nick HornbyAnnyira szeretnék bocsánatot kérni attól a kiskölyöktől: „Sajnálom, cserbenhagytalak. Én vagyok az az ember, akinek igazából gondoskodnia kellett volna rólad, de én elrontottam: rossz döntéseket hoztam a legrosszabb pillanatokban, és elintéztem, hogy az legyen belőled, aki vagyok.
Nick HornbySeeing as he wasn’t very bright, I was pretty sure that he was going to be good at fighting.
Nick HornbyI couldn’t bear to think about the proper future, so I just tried to make things better for the next twenty minutes or so, over and over again.
Nick HornbyWe laughed. Ha, ha, we went. Ha, ha, ha. I’m not laughing now. Never has a joke filled me with such nausea and paranoia and insecurity and self-pity and dread and doubt.
Nick HornbyAnd that's the last time we will ever speak, probably. 'No problem': the last words I will ever say to somebody I have been reasonably close to before our lives take different directions. Weird, eh? You spend Christmas at somebody's house, you worry about their operations, you give them hugs and kisses and flowers, you see them in their dressing gown...and then, bang, that's it. Gone forever. And sooner or later there will be another mum, another Christmas, more varicose veins.
Nick HornbyHow can that not leave you bruised somewhere? How can that
not turn you into the sort of person liable to break into little bits when your first love goes all wrong?
What came first, the music or the misery? Did I listen to music because I was miserable? Or was I
miserable because I listened to music? Do all those records turn you into a melancholy person?
Nobody worries about kids listening
to thousands, literally thousands, of songs about broken hearts and rejection and pain and misery and
loss. The unhappiest people I know, romantically speaking, are the ones who like pop music the most;
and I don’t know whether pop music has caused this unhappiness, but I do know that they’ve been
listening to the sad songs longer than they’ve been living the unhappy lives.
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