Cure-All, Why So The Preference? Jesus tap dancing christ. . . I need not a cure nor a simple discussion. I do not want to completely rid of my depression. Without it, I wouldn’t be as contemplative. So is it fear that prevents me from seeking help? NO. Fuck you. Listen to me when I say ‘intellectual stimulation,’ ‘nurture,’ and ‘passion.’ Like Will Hunting as the climatic character in Good Will Hunting, I am complex. Unraveling to the contrast, I am more complex. I’m a tough, divine case. I would never in my honesty say that I am simple to deal with. In order to help me you must love me and with an undying force. If you cannot feel the crevices of a fine oil painting as I have, we may not make progress. If you cannot playfully lap at the vibration of a fine string instrument, and widen your perceptual consciousness by way of a Sextet, times may be increasingly difficult. However, how can it be expected of you to actually reach the depths of me, regardless of understanding? Modesty has been shunned for this time. I will not await the time for an intellectual passerby to analyze me on my actual thoughts and award applause on linguistic supremacy. I can do that for myself, but your altruism is much appreciated. I need to liberate. It will either be the unwished by...or a hostage situation. My success is not guaranteed. Is it ever? Aye..I say. Good show. And my words shall outlast thee...till that day of unwealthy thoughts.
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