or at least, i know too many people that, taken in isolation, excite my heart with friendship, interest, commonality, adventure, etc.
i don't know how to celebrate the individual, every one of these islands of intrigue.
i don't know how to love the light in each ambition, each discovery, the
little or great skirmishes between self and purpose,
the insecurity of each identity, and the brilliant shine of infrequent revelation
and not be overwhelmed.
or mocked for the volume.