When you cease to fear death,
Nothing will ever scare you.

Start there.

I know I will never be free
Of my demons and dark moons.

Oddly there is relief, perhaps comfort,
When all of hope disappears.

What is love.
Like ***.

I love you.
So what.
What do I mean.

Can I love a hundred different people.
At once.
Equally?  
Why not.

I love you.
Does it means I trust you.
With all my secrets and... well my life.

So why, how, do we fall out of love.
Boredom. The evolutionary need for variety. Impulse. Silent but deadly in the middle of the night.

Is love protection. I love you and I would die for you.

The only thing I'm sure of is...    if you don't love yourself,
You cannot love another.

If you feel you are not worthy of love,
You will never be able to share in it.

And yet I don't have a clue what love is.

You have to laugh.
Seriously.
Out loud.
I know nothing.

I miss hitchhiking.

The most honest conversations,
Always happen,
With people you do not know.

I miss talking to strangers.

We punch in at birth,
And somehow we survive.

We have a few laughs,

Over the years we leak out an ocean of tears,
About 10,000 ******* more or less,
We scale a man-made mountain of moral quandary,
And never get near the top

We enjoy a clutch of near death expediences,
Like close calls, accidents and anger
Before we clock out,
And go, who knows where.

You have to laugh.

She: Do you believe in nothing?

He: I don't believe nothing is possible.

She: So what is the point of all this?

He: To experience consciousness for as long as possible.

She : Why do you worry and fret all the time.

He: Evolutionary behavior.  In the past fear kept you alive.

She: What happens after death.

He: Why does it matter.

I have an ability to intimate,
No... intimidate,
Or is it alienate.

One of them anyways.