Let me tell you a story about an object, a rumbling, roaring object.
Sometimes, it screams.
Sometimes, it flutters.
Sometimes...
it doesn't know what it wants to do,
But it follows me everywhere. If there's one thing it is sure about,
it's that it doesn't like to be ignored,
But it is.
It makes these noises like a rhythmic chant,
repetitively calling out to me, yet here's the catch...
I don't know how to answer.
Everyone has this.
Everyone knows this,
But everyone inevitably ignores this
because they
Hear the screams,
Feel the fluttering,
But they don't know what to do.
However,
It's when this thing aligns with somebody else's
that all is made right.
We dance to a beat, our personal drum line. Sometimes,
we dance to the beat of somebody else's drum, but this is not wise.
It's when we dance to the beat of our own drum,
this screaming, pathetic thing,
that we find our true place,
and it's when our drum happens to rhythmically align with another's drum
that we begin to know why everything didn't make sense before now.
And so, we dance.