The thing that quietly ruins most lives does not arrive as terror. It arrives charming, intelligent, fluent, strangely familiar. It arrives like Dracula at the threshold – and waits for you to invite it.
The capacity is intact. It has always been intact. What has been throttling it is also the voice that has been telling you, your whole life, that it was never there.
Reality is not where you have arrived. Reality is the trajectory you are on. The Skin collapses the second into the first – and calls it maturity. That is the spell. Break it.