The lightness of the fabric that nothing can be held onto.
Realism.
Glide through your perceptions.
Seek the strongest avenues of love, not as desire but as a coursing, vibrant notion of something that runs through your every being.
Be receptive to the tales of the other, be attuned to the calling of the same want.
Feed it, feel it, fuel it.
Don’t be corrupted by the selfishness of the self, seek your freedom in the balance of others.
Lean not for advantage but for solidity, that which allows for every soul to stand up. And let the water flow from where sticks, twigs and confusion stem the contour.
Realism is a concept not a reality. Realists don’t win the game.