I wish it could be...

I am really trying to finish off this year in a calm and collected manner. I feel like so much has already happened, and if anything, I will never stop trusting extremes that led me to this moment. I will always believe that anything worth having is worth having in excess. The good things are worth hoarding; sex-aching loins, joy that fires through you like popping popcorn, or love, the weakness at the sight of someone who makes your chest ache like indigestion. If it's good for you, it ought to be good for you in any amount, and you should track down every available bit of it. And if it's toxic, if it turns your liver into a hard little rock of scar tissue, or curls your memory at the edges like something burned in a fire, or makes your stomach flop, or your mind ache, or your personality contorted, then it must surely be something worth having ... right?