We live with a catalog of emotions, whipsawing between highs and lows. Most of the undulation is due to poor internal weather.

We are not neutral, pushed inside and outside by competing forces. One minute we’re a lover of rule-breakers with scrupulous indifference; the next, we’re just another lemming, a sheep jumping through hoops.

We don’t aim for mediocrity. We shoot for the range of emotion — that long-term serotonin of being ourselves.

What individuates the individual is the armor of absurdity. Uniqueness treads underrated, and brilliance shines at the edges. We stand in to stand out — dialectic reflections reinforce the true self, that which is original.

Everyone’s brain comes uniquely hardwired; the difference is what one decides to shed versus the flawed attributes one decides to radically accept. Under the delusion of reprieve, those confused and jealous never get bailed out.

Divergent thinking offers a sanctuary, sheltered from the periphery’s fabricated emotions. Never take anything personally from society’s grip — the standard is injurious and little more than noise. Other people’s thoughts and feelings, albeit sticky, remain detached from the Personal Legend that makes us stretch.