How do you wear it? Like armor. Or a headdress. How does it drape?
You need it. Your ambition. You need it. Even chimps are using cleavers. And the story you’ll tell me later, when we sip our drinks, and watch the girls prowl the dance floor, the story you’ll tell me will be built around your outfit. The shoes you wear to accent your furious desire for excellence. To see a bit more of the world. To unleash a fuller, more satisfying version of yourself.
Tell me about how you distrust it. How you fear it. Tell me again how you bury it under layers.
We are our desires, my friend. We hold these fires inside us to warm the world.