Just as I reduced my melancholy down to the size of a coffee grain, she pinned me by the larynx. So how can I speak now? How can I even begin to express jubilance, or dread, or madness? At my core, there is a rain puddle, a rain puddle with endless reflections, scanning the internal dynamics of the past and signaling the future. Just as I finished stretching, elongating my libs, flexing my muscles, preparing to dive into the open sea, I slipped off the ledge of the cliff. I didn’t quite hit my head on the boulder, but I experienced shock, as if I’ve done this all before. It would clearly be difficult to swim in the vast sea. But It would be rejuvenating to stick my head under water and open my eyes. Is the ocean even blue? I hate that son of a bitch. No, no, not the ocean. But she who follows me everywhere, giving me no choice but to entertain her qualms. What the fuck does she want from me? Does she enjoy seeing me in pain? For when she convinces me that I’m incapable of loving and being loved, she’s depriving me of my human inheritance. As I hike the trail of my existence, I notice that the ultimate form of my nature is incomplete. But fuck her for making me feel inadequate. She doesn’t even know shit about me, but yet she’s constantly controlling me and dictating my behavior. I never do what I want. Instead, I always do what she says is “safe” or “best” for me. Explain to me how this silence is safe? I hurt myself with silence. When I’m silent, everything, everyone around me grows silent. Finally, when the solitude is too much to bear, I force myself to speak, but it’s then that no one listens. Is it harsh, for people to turn away? It seems harsh, but the currents must continue to shift and flow to create worldly flux. Your end goal, your ultimate purpose is to be coddled in a safety nest. But what about me? How can I reach the peak of my purpose? If I decide to embark on this odyssey, then it’s a testament of my resilience, my ability to reject you, fear. For if I don’t reject you, then I must, at the least, finally come to terms with the continual rejection of my human existence. Fear, you are an inhibitive cunt. I sacrifice my happiness for you. You hold weight over my mind, and each time that I try to climb, you mock me, you taunt, tease and ridicule me. You say, “You can’t do it, miser. You’re cheap.” But I say to hell with you anyway. I’m going to make my grand escape, and when I do, all will be begging for mercy. I will kindly smile, and tell all that I’m unrestrained and mulish, and that this is, in fact, my nature. And when it comes time to dive in head first, then I will finally do it, and if I must do it alone, then I will do so with gusto. Fear, the stupid son of a bitch. If only you could see what a monomaniac you are, you conscientious buffoon.