A millstone sits in my chest grinding anima into ecstasy. This is what it means to write, this is my burden to digest indiscriminately the seed of life. Given the choice I would never adopt apathy. There are moments when my mind alights on naught and resolves stoically to imitation. These moments offer no relief. For I would not stand in this world a shell. I would not stand at all if I knew that I could neither suffer nor rejoice. There is no panacea, least of all disregard. It is a process, one undertaken by all. A process that I have resisted many times to my own detriment. I am ready to heal. To be accountable. To be relied upon. An equal rather than an accessory. Today I am an optimist and I will not be tempered.
Fear is a solider who for the purpose of life perseveres but in some, myself include, he is a fanatic whose prejudice and paranoia incarcerates. I am not free and as long as I remain subservient I am not safe. For who can ensure the quality of my life if not me? I have found no means to govern fear other than to rally around a more altruistic passion. There exists no greater passion than life and no greater fear. I do not say jump now into the abyss, seek darkness wherever it nests, unfurl its raven-feathered sails and navigate the funereal waters of the river Styx. I do not value my life so little that I would, for a mere hit of adrenalin, wager my sanity and sentience without consideration. I want only that I should not live heart pressed under the boot heel of an equally murderous trepidation. Balance, wisdom, curiosity, courage these are the virtues I seek.