for the thrill of it

And not two minutes after clicking "publish post", my mind begins to scramble, frantically searching for something to counter my previous entry, a little something to balance out this young-and-fast lifestyle that I've been living; for as fun as its been, there are times when a man has to know his limits. There are problems that alcohol cannot wash away, cuts and scars that even the strongest herbs cannot heal. I may appear to be a little strung out on compliments; to that, I'd say that a little confidence never hurts. We party hard, there's no denying that; but what better way to acknowledge your accomplishments than by drinking to them? And I may hit the club every now and then - but rest assured, one night of fun only goes so far. This ride isn't over, but nor will it last forever. One day we'll be doing 95 in the coupe cruising down these empty streets, and the next day I'll be cruisin' solo, taking my sweet time, enjoying the scenic route as I cruise down memory late, waving goodbye to "Ms. Right Now"'s place in my rear-view mirror and taking the nearest exit for "Ms. Right"'s house. And I say "the nearest exit" because, well, I can't lie: I'm pretty impatient at times. But I've also learned that flooring it is never ever ever a good idea, and until I get there, its nothing but me, my car, the road, and these sweet, sweet dreams.




Baby, I'm not tired of the chase. I just need someone who'll chase back.