all the crazy shit i did tonight, those will be the best memories

to have no more than is necessary. the only luxuries - warmth in the winter and inspirations all around me. the occasional bottle of wine. to be foolish and make reckless great mistakes through idealism and a thirst. a threat to comfort, boundaries, kings, beggars, puppeteters. i'll steal your soul for a taste.

to keep writing like we're coming closer. to create ideas infinitely, worlds breaking off the points of fingertips, gnobbly knees, dirty worn feet, failing eyes, my crooked nose, out of my ears, for these throbbing shimmering worlds to be full of me, and i up to the brimm of them. to that endless sense of wonder, of re-examination of everthing around us. hands like restless hopes.
to this; to you, to how far we've come.

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