The innocence of what can be seen and thought.

The purities of each word and meaning.

The yearnings to worship in false idols.

The passions of the littlest.

The amazements of the largest.

Drunk on juice,

High on adrenaline. 

Broken bones,

Over broken hearts.

Hands held,

Not to get lost.

Black or white or shades of gray,

Pieces of crayon.

Over their shoulder,

it’s tough getting older.

Wakey Kitty.

And I am one year older.  

I am asked, “What now?” “What do you want to accomplish this year?”
I dunno… yet.  

Always thankful for opportunities to ponder the future, but what would it be without attempting to bring back some of the past?
The missed connections, forgone hellos, and misplaced goodbyes —
The faulty conclusions, serendipitous mistakes, and lingering hugs.  

I don’t view the past as a forbidden place one is not able to visit now and again.
It’s a difficult place to live in for sure.
But like walking forward without pushing your foot into the ground,
how can one go into the future without pushing unto their past?  

And so another year came and went.
New memories cementing budding friendships and reaffirming what I imagine will always be.
Hours worth of heartache and heartmake.
Days worth of smiles and smirks.
Weekends worth of laughs and alcohol.  

If years are to get better and better, I better get to work.  
Thank you friends.

THIS IS ONE OF THE WEIRDEST VIDEOS I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE.

I want to start a fight but have someone finish it for me.