What is the source of this atavistic fear, and will we ever be able to overcome it? When the sun shines, we find no time for poetry- is sorrow truly more precious than joy? Repeat your questions like a mantra, until you find the answers you're seeking or until your ears become accustomed to the constant murmur of existential agony.

Abolish certainty- or let us out of this futile struggle, before we wither and die. Doubt's restless spirit has stained your skin, it has spread its roots inside the deepest core of your being, which may or may not explain why your own thoughts seem to rebel against you.

How can love be freed of all rules when our lives crumble under governing principles? I've spent too much time on the surface- would you dare to leave security's ship behind, would you dare to take a plunge and explore the serpentine depths of desire?