It’s not about becoming someone you’re not. It’s about becoming who you are. It’s about pissing on that carcass of tofu you call yourself and letting it die in the most ruthless of cruel and apathetic manners. It’s about letting your procrastination wither away, giving the finger to everything that does not matter, being bound by nothing but the laws of physics.

It’s not about worrying about approach anxiety. It’s about walking out in the middle of the city totally nude because your fear of embarrassment disgusts you. You would rather ingest a glass full of period juice than talk about your insecurities, because you are that fucking sickened by your own weaknesses.

It’s about taking a shovel and mentally unearthing your self, uncovering your deluded identity, the one buried deep, deep inside. Make an impact, a dent, a crater upon this world before that ceaseless silence overtakes you.