Mediocre 

I prefer a lonely life if it means I keep away from the mediocre. Those who would choose joy in every instance. When pain is the launchpad to your greatest calling. Pain can make you see change. It takes you by the skin on your neck, forces your face to look at the disaster. Pain laughs at your feeble attempt to escape reality. As it grips tighter and tighter and you feel the blood pumping harder and harder. When you begin to fade off, and your vision is only a blurry smoke of light. And when you wake, you awake a new being. You hold the answer and no one can steal that experience from you. My darling had you chosen the mediocre, you would still be back there… Back where joy  entertained you, in hopes that you would never understand. That you would would never discover your calling. Folly my child, mascarades as joy.

Advertisements