Perfection is illusory. Stillness of mind. Playful language. Nouns, verbs, and adjectives. Only nouns and adjectives. Verbs later. Simplicity. Reduction. Grinding to completion. Completion is illusory, too. Rather, grinding to virtuosity. Increase intelligence. Be calm. Now include verbs. Language is meant to be a tool. At best, a crude one. Sometimes all you have are bones and flint. That’s fine. Read the masters. Be. Mimic. The self is illusory. Part of something larger than yourself. It is not a choice. Five hundred words versus five hundred thoughtful words. Some people are mirrors. Some people are sources of light. Some people are sources of darkness. All people are sources of light, sources of darkness, and mirrors. A person cannot choose to be a mirror, they just are. A person can choose to be a source of light. One person’s light is another person’s darkness. Don’t be darkness. Be stillness. Be calm. You pay your dues with your time. “Your time on Earth is fixed for you.” You reflect the emotions and attitudes of the people you spend the most time with. Choose your friends wisely. I am a mirror. Your life is not some grotesque pasquinade delivered at the expense of your own self-esteem. No one cares about you. That is not a sad thought, that is a liberating thought. No one cares. The world is a place to play. To be human is to reflect and absorb the emotions of the world. Fervor toward a cause. Ecstasy. A dopamine hit. Trough. Worthlessness. Regret. To feel one emotion is to feel them all. To not feel anything at all is a tragedy. A dearth of emotion is a travesty. Human suffering. Suffering is the baseline. A person can rise above suffering. You cannot make me feel embarrassed. Only I can choose to feel embarrassed. I never will. Lifting the world with my heart puts me on firm ground. Breathe. One thousand times a day, we die. The ego stretches. Grotesquely bloated. Lies. Small lies. Half-truths stacked on larger lies. The ego consumes. Ridicule. Absence of guilt. Fear. Fear of fear. To be the person we dream of being. To live a fantasy. To live to suffer. To die one thousand times each second. Raw. Distortion. The deep end. To be the best, you can be. To make the largest contribution to the whole. The self is illusory, the whole is real. The whole is bloody. Bashed by rocks and burned. Yet it survives. Survival as a service. Breath. To endure life’s impalpable suffering. To smile and thrive through such suffering is nothing short of heroic. Please love yourself. Would you love yourself if it made others happy? Perfection is illusory. Emotions are real. Fear and courage are both real. You choose. Crippling anxiety and ecstasy are real. You choose. To be light and to be dark are real. You choose.