∮ To be what I am. To live the life that was set for me to live. To voice the things that only I can voice. To bear the blossoms that are commanded of my heart. This is what I want, and surely, this cannot be presumptuous.
My soul is utterly frantic for that single place of perfect refuge from which I can clearly see the winds rip and hear the tempest tear, yet despite the ferocity of the tumult I rest in such a sublime peace it is as if neither existed at all.