If I could speak another language, I’d want it to be a language in which there were no possible way to say this: I hate myself.
Let’s have her meet a sexy stranger. She hooks up, falls in love, but never has to deal with details like sleep disorders, childcare, and debt.
I haven’t heard anything about chimpanzees running wild there, or biting off anyone’s face. Though I think there was a face-biting incident, involving a vagrant man under a bridge.
But a regret is a regret, and we have the right to have as many as we want. Mine boils down to this: I always wished I were cool. It boils down to this: I was kind of sorry to be a girl.
Running around the desert blowing up oil fields and killing children and whatnot. The five soldiers deem this unproductive behavior.
Let’s say you have to give something up in order to get what you want. The more you want it, the more you have to give up.