It occurred to me that every time I watch a movie, in my case it’s a lot of fictional movies, my attention seems to have been driven towards the protagonist character (doesn’t have to be the main character) who makes the call whether to keep pushing it to the limit or not.
I can’t tell how long it’s been, but I’ve been running at my top speed. Just like everyone else, I go out there and chase my goals. And I’ve always been the happiest man to be able to do everything my heart tells me to. The horror to that thought is to bleed over and over again and still not getting what we think we deserve. It hurts. But there’s worse.
I am nowhere near where I want to be. But I’d like to talk about the process I’ve been through as a 23 year old.
Shit I’m a dog.
I deserve your love, I do
I’ve been here when nobody else was looking,
Accepted every bit of you before you even knew me, who I was, how many worlds I’d been through.
All the men inside me had fallen for you. Hard.
These are some of the most unforgettable lines I recognise in the last couple of months, said by friends, family, and me:
I have no idea when exactly ‘growing up’ took over. To me, this is how it feels:
Hey, kind readers. In case you wanna help me:
Someone specifically asked me to write about dick. Yes, dick.
Now feel those feet. If you can.