#suburbia

The lawn is the last suburban frontier. It separates us from the corruption of the street and its triker gangs. When drive-by shootings occur, our grass gets a shower instead of our windows getting water-stains. ↗

— Bauvard

#funny #gangs #humor #lawns #shootings

I don't feel any shame I won't apologize if there ain't nowhere you can go running away from pain when you've been victimized tales from another broken home. ↗

— Billie Joe Armstrong

#green-day #jesus-of-suburbia #music #tales-of-another-broken-home #music

What I want to do is tell stories about normal people in the American suburbs. I don't write the book where it's a conspiracy reaching the prime minister; I don't write the book with the big serial killer who lops off heads. My setting is a very placid pool of suburbia, family life. And within that I can make pretty big splashes. ↗

— Harlan Coben

#american #big #book #conspiracy #family

After all, we were young. We were fourteen and fifteen, scornful of childhood, remote from the world of stern and ludicrous adults. We were bored, we were restless, we longed to be seized by any whim or passion and follow it to the farthest reaches of our natures. We wanted to live – to die – to burst into flame – to be transformed into angels or explosions. Only the mundane offended us, as if we secretly feared it was our destiny . By late afternoon our muscles ached, our eyelids grew heavy with obscure desires. And so we dreamed and did nothing, for what was there to do, played ping-pong and went to the beach, loafed in backyards, slept late into the morning – and always we craved adventures so extreme we could never imagine them. In the long dusks of summer we walked the suburban streets through scents of maple and cut grass, waiting for something to happen. ↗

— Steven Millhauser

#suburbia #summer #dreams