For the longest time the world told you You were only meant for the flatlands. And yet you, you, tenacity personified, you forged on to reach for the mountains. I told you one day, I wanted to reach the mountain peak, You said it won’t be easy. Well, we know nothing worth having is easy anyway And together, we climbed and we seized the clouds. Then one day, they told us the unimaginable. That we have reached the end. That this is all we could ever go to, absolutely nowhere else. We are finally here at our final stop, to stay and just wait. That all we have is hope - that passive non-acceptance of the inevitable. Of the slow and yet harrowing, imminent fall to our nadir. Yet I know, you know, what you do everyday is nothing close to passive. Not one bit. Not at all. Because everyday, I see you endure. I see you toil. For in this world of easy roads, of indifference, of resignation, You’ve always opted to reach for the stars. ...
n. a kind of psychological exoskeleton that can protect you from pain and contain your anxieties, but always ends up cracking under pressure or hollowed out by time—and will keep growing back again and again, until you develop a more sophisticated emotional structure, held up by a strong and flexible spine, built less like a fortress than a cluster of treehouses.