#oh no now im mixing in scottish slang

Let go of that fist you’ve been balling your whole life. 

Release the breath that you’ve been holding since forever.

Empty the mind that’s been cluttered, overwhelmed, filled with a raucous cacophony of anxiety, insecurity, neurosis and the kind of low level fear that never goes away, never makes itself known, but is there nonetheless, that kind that makes you fray, exhausts and wears away at you. 

That’s what you want. Even if you can’t quite articulate it, I know that at the heart of all this, you’re after relief. Not necessarily relief from yourself, but relief from all the parts that you’ve had to construct, the pieces of yourself that are reactions to the world around you, build up so deep and so thick that you’re not sure where they end and you begin. 

So let me take you to that point. Allow me to push you, condense you down, reduce you to your bare elements, and then see who you are. Cut to the quick, to the place where the flashes of you aren’t considered, or deliberate, or even accidental. Just an expression of yourself, something you weren’t even certain was still around, hadn’t been able to indulge in the length of time it takes to forget whether something really happened or was just some fancied dream, an idle thought that could’ve crossed over into reality. 

I want to hew a vessel from your bones, to carry you to the point where the world falls away and you just drift. Glide through whatever you exists at that point, whatever person is left after you’ve been stripped down, laid bare, examined. Once I’ve poked and prodded and pushed and pushed until you have no choice but to collapse, until this whole sorry house of cards comes tumbling down, and you’re just left there in the wreckage, looking beautiful. 

Show me your truth, whatever form that takes.