I have been disciplining my fingers for the longest time to suit your methods. My fingers have been following the art of your containment, and my fingers have been hurting. I cannot be stupid enough to not appreciate all that you’ve given me. I have learnt so much from you… it makes me smile to think of all the times that you listened patiently to all the stupid things that I had to say to you in the most spirited of my youthful highs and in the most wounded of my youthful lows… You heard me speak of death, my body bursting with life… and you heard me speak of life, my eyes looking too far away from that which lives… For you I have deep gratitude, even admiration… but now I have acquired the art of your temper, and there are paths that you haven’t walked, but I must. I must bid you farewell… to discover the heights and depths that I’ve heard only the freest of poets speak of… I must discover majesty in the company of those mountains and I must learn to sing with the cadence of the wildest waterfalls. I must dance naked with the coolest winds… now my heart beats again! Now I can taste life again… now I feel the bird spread her wings again… now I feel my skin tingling with this ecstatic sensation… again…

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