How soon we forget.
Introspective shilly-shally about how you've been wearing glasses for a decade and how their the same Jeep-manufactured frames, and how this is an ample metaphor to describe how the world and all your friends have been giving you the short ticket to lameass-land on the lonesome-bus does not become Kaz in the slightest.
This is the first time I've considered censoring my past self, but to do so would be unfair and unjust.

I was wrong. The person I was had been mistaken and put feelings into words that are not as Kaz as they could have been.
And could yet be. Kamina, forgive me, I had momentarily forgotten the great lesson of your life. A square punch to the face was all it took to bring me back around.

And for now there is a Kaz.
And I believe in this Kaz.
I believe in a Kaz who believes in himself.

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