Love works as an engine, not a refuge. Its mindless drive can be empowering but leaves the landscape scarred.
Let them enjoy the allure of folly and cuddle to the coma of their delusions; what they crave is what they deserve.
Winter’s impending tides of darkness are a certain blessing as those around you are driven back to the comfort of their hides. As ever the world’s perennial tundra is for you to fill with the defiance of your breath. Stand anew on the fallen leaves and breathe deep the brisk air of transition.
Learn to embrace the bitter taste of your lips bloodied red by the starkness of truth. Wisdom is not spat out, it torrents from the wounds of the tongue, withered and tested.