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Sunday, January 9, 2011

Love, and what it really is.

The death and rebirth of time; the end of an old year, the beginning of a new one, brings out the sentimentalist in me.

I realize that love is, to me, having no money but caring for someone so much you are compelled to share with them your last cigarette, your last piece of pizza, your last beer, all for the benifit of shared and sometimes impared decision-making, and making all the wrong choices and walking all the wrong alleyways in order to make memories that last forever.

A belated, and happy, new year to you all.

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