The Tumult Centre

    I’m not doing any of this for anyone but myself, that’s what hurts us the worst.
    I can never be good enough for another person until I’m good enough for myself, plus, maybe I don’t care about you as much as who I’m really trying to impress. Until I allow myself genuine credibility, opinionated vices are dead to my world.

    I can’t hear you, below, from so high up on my tightrope. The turbulence is making it harder to balance, sometimes we wobble and we have to temporarily cut off our own arms just to survive. I’m not sure you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be faced with an entirely personal question; you would have to stand before you could run.
    Clinging to your vicarious fear may be saving you now, but I promise — not for long. Relativity will be your brown fox, you lazy dog. Take a leap-of-faith into the unknown, lest you reflect your forecast of the abyss unto the rest of us the unrest.