Life is too short for this.
Transcend the bullshit.
So here's the truth.
I am so frightened of dying I
often imagine every intersection will be my last breath .
If I ever said I love you, I meant it.
That includes you.

I am done with being immature, for the moment.
Please believe me when I say that every dream I ever had was shattered when I saw the backs of your eyes. That's a half-compliment, but take it as a good thing.
People like us are enemies to this world, and I like that. I like the way I smile at children. I like the terrible job I do at hiding my tears. I like that I still remember details about every girl I've ever listened to. And I love how big my heart is.

I love how big my breath is.

I want to crawl into you with a wrench, and clear the blood clots near your zest.

But that's not my job.

I am an acrobat and a chimney sweep, a word-weaver, a son, a kurt, a Kurt.
A poly-para-psycho-quixotician.

and as of right now,
capable of elaborating on the effects of shooting for the moon.
(In summary; cold, but well worth it)

love