Hear me out there?

This is what I want you to do. I want you to listen to me. Try to listen despite my muffled heartbeat, my muted voice. Read my mind. Listen to the sounds of telepathic silence pulsating towards you.

I dig in my heels for necessity's sake, out of an eventual will to survive. I blindly reinforce my soft spots with sterner stuff (what ambition's made of, says Marc Antony) to forge on. But the me still seeps out from between the cracks.

It isn't weakness, it's humanity. Or is humanity by virtue weak? Or is weakness by virtue human? Listen to me: I want to be extraordinary, I want to be normal. I want what no one else has, I want what everyone else has. I want you to feel the weighted tension of my contradictions.

I am clay. I'm being molded and kneaded and broken. Can't you see that I realize I am also in process? That I'm subject to change?

To think that we should remain untouched by the prospect of change is (as Marc Antony would say) the most unkindest cut of all.

I pray for the day you could hear the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart clearly. But until then, try to listen. Steel yourself, humble yourself and listen.