I’m looking into your eyes right now. I love you.
Don’t quit not quitting on yourself, whatever is in your heart — big, important, longing stuff like the quest for true love.
Swing tenacity’s knife exactly as sagacity has swung your willy, nilly dilly head.
Look reality in its bright, bulging, blinking eye.
Track down any self-care apathy within, jump any legitimacy laxity — kill them both.
And don’t forget to take up the continuous, scientific adoration of honesty.
If you adore emotional integrity, if you favor psychological congruency, if you pound out new affective territory — then you will not fall off a cliff at night and you will not lose all you have always hoped for.
Here is what to do.
Stare love right in the snout and speak the truth, lean in and grind out a bushel basket of openness, eat a yard of authenticity and knock back true falsity.
Shout, charge and retake the emotional high ground.
What are you thinking?
You are all that anyone could ever want — you precious cargo, you personhood of inestimable value, you absolutely gorgeous emotive mess.
You’re tired?
Okay, go watch some brain dead TV.
You’ve tried and failed?
Okay, go to bed and get some sleep.
Remember when we had lunch last week. I told you that the first three tries don’t keep the fourth from succeeding.
In the face of failure, tenacity is the still the best policy — and ontogeny.
If you can’t grow one thing then grow another, you long, glorious bank of radiant blooms planted in previous springs.
Every seed you have ever sown — even if it has died in someone else — has flowered in your own soul.
Modern Soliloquies & Pastiches 