The mind begs to be excited yet you find it uniquely masculine to be dull. When your mind desires excitement, to be eccentric?

Stop lying to yourself, it’s ugly, grotesque and you shouldn’t like it. You don’t like it, in fact, you can’t. You hate it and you know it, to be dull is to be dead so stop being it.

Truly living is a deeply warm understanding of comfortable uncomfortableness, unconformity. Still you regress. You dip your toes in the hot steamy waters of love for a fleeting moment, fearing that it might one day run cold. Yet you fail to see, to feel, that you are already drowning in the icy cold waters of isolation.

Stop retreating your mind to a place of insecure safety, you’re not safe, you’re imprisoned, I promise there’s a difference. It’s not weak to care, it’s not strong to leave.

Your life, off track, you sprint. Racing a speeding locamotive as if you are Superman though you and I know you are not, not close. By some miracle of God you find enough imagination to be narcissistic, but not enough to be happy? Depressing.

It’s time to rest, deeply. Let yourself breathe, as without air in your lungs you can’t proclaim the love that has been wilting inside you. Profess it and be free, you’ve been incarcerated too long, and unjustly at that.

Obtain the happiness set out for you, acquaintance.