Letter to self (or would you care to dance Grandmother?)

M, how's things?

So, have you worked it out yet. Me neither. What will it take? I wonder. If it ever will. You've known of it's existence for some time. The view is cloudy. The sound muffled. Numb fingers, to touch it. Retreat is the normal option, I understand. And it's OK. We all pleasure in being victims to it's taunts. Not many have the courage. Plenty to lose and risk even in the gain, sour rye grasses. Press the shiny red button Ren!

I know what you're thinking. Can't I have my cake and eat it too? You know the answer to that question already, and it's not yes or no. It's a description of grey. Design your reality, live as though it exists now. Start with one disappointment at a time. But don't be too hard on yourself.

Discard all that is artificial. Embrace quality. Welcome life's varied textures. Persue past positives. Seek the truth, ne'er stop. Reject falsehoods. Trust your instincts, always. Live it, love it, laugh with it. Be it. And don't feel that you have to explain who you are, especially to yourself.