I have come to the point in my life of which I was dreaming since I had been a child. I have become the author. Every moment of my childhood is going to be written through my novels, and short stories. I will be the only one from this town, who will make it. I see all of them, growing up to be milkmen, used cars salesmen, factory workers, and shop assistants. They are trapped in this little hungarian town never to break free. To die here, unknown. I...I will break free and will do all the wonderful things I said I would do.
So...Why should it all depress me now?