YOUR LOVE IS MY DIARETIC.

There is something all too real about hopelessness. It begins in the teen years, before disappearing for a decade when post-20s you realize it has ripened inside of you.



We fight to live, because if we did not - where would we go? For men, or for me, at this point, the only thing worth living for is the love of a beautiful woman.



There is a chance she will never come, and if she does, will not love me back.



There is alcohol and frivolous living to keep us occupied. Falling out of parked cars and shattering bottles out of apartment windows. We drink, we laugh, we act like tomorrow matters.



Then we play at those things that we pretend to take seriously. We need something to be serious as seriousness is real. It carries weight in the world.

In the end, you're only as alive as your last breath. Only as serious as your last thought. Only as in love as your last kiss.

So dear, find me. Kiss me and I'll never let you go. We can spread our fires across this world and never look back. We'll always have the thought that today could be our last and even if it isn't, does it really matter all that much?