I've Gotten Really Hot Since You Went

I Expertly Angled My Raison Bran To Accomodate The G-forces.

That's The Thing About Pain, It Demands To Be Felt.

Augustus: “you Probably Need Some Rest.” Me: “i’m Okay.” Augustus: “okay.” (pause.) “what Are You Thinking About?” Me: “you.” Augustus: “what About Me?” Me: “‘i Do Not Know Which To Prefer, / The Beauty Of Inflections / Or The Beauty Of Innuendos, / The Blackbird Whistling / Or Just After.’” Augustus: “god, You Are Sexy.” Me: “we Could Go To Your Room.” Augustus: “i’ve Heard Worse Ideas.

Not That Smart. Not That Hot. Not That Nice. Not That Funny. That's Me: I'm Not That.

And Imagining That Future Keeps You Going, But You Never Do It. You Just Use The Future To Escape The Present.