Don’t doubt it for a second.
Specialise? No, because I’m special:
Sad enough that total faith in myself
Is a rarity to savour;
Tragic if I didn’t turn inwards, always.
How could I ever trust those
Who tell me not to trust myself?
I love you who love yourself,
For you embrace absurdity and nothingness.
It doesn’t matter that you won’t last:
That only makes it sweeter.
Better, then, for the two of us to nod in public
And save intimacy for silent art.
I can hear you listening
I can hear you thinking
And if your thoughts had a face,
I would kiss them.
No skin could ever compare to this —
The translation of existence itself.
Dreams! — there is nothing greater,
If you think money’s more important —
You might not ever get it
(The truth, currency or purpose).
Happiness is not a place: it’s a state.
Rest up and think a while.
Sleep will nourish, even in its absence:
Total calm or newfound tension.
The money here, or gone:
It doesn’t matter, does it?
The dream remains: no wallet can hold it.
Money, coins, rates — or
Freedom, power, wealth.
Both reside in the other, but
One without the other won’t get you far.
The heavy pocket guarantees nothing —
The heavy mind till capable of soaring?
That’s all you ever need.
A painful truth, I’m afraid:
Greatness may well be limited
By who you really are. But
What greatness lies within
Can always be extracted.
The ore of dreams — the only labour
I told you not to, only a lifetime ago —
But mistakes are made to be made.
Failure’s nothing to be afraid of —
The only thing to avoid are second thoughts.
Does it really matter who you are?
No, because you can only be who you are:
Yes, because you are an individual and thus essential.
But heed this well, lest we pass without connecting:
The only metric worth watching is the self you’re affecting.
And even if you and I never can be friends,
Listen to me now: the world needs you,
And you need yourself.
It doesn’t matter what I think,
Because I will soon be dead, before the sun explodes.
What matters is that you become
You, before you’re done.