Sprezzatura🥀

I have always wondered about the ingredients of change. Is it a mixture of taste and morality, or is it our own minds that merely sweeten the forbidden, the immoral, the trivial, and the fleeting—just like our thoughts, just like our perceptions, just like us.In their declarations of power and within their books, authors most often resort to that very forbidden segment: crime, cartels, cold and contemptuous rich men, affairs with stepfathers, with your boyfriend’s father, with your friend’s boyfriend, with fictional characters and monsters, with busy boys and girls, and numerous casual hookups. Combinations laid out on paper that give purpose and form to it all. Fantasies on paper transcend those of life and experience; words transcend deeds, and fiction transcends reality. But we do not surrender ourselves, nor do we resell ourselves. Our being is not for exploitation or presentation, nor is our body. We are part of a greater mosaic composed of a sense for ethics and aesthetics—for a morality that does not hold a person by their pocket or by their ear, but by their honor and their word. Our existence is conceived upon the premise of searching, of attaining, and only then does everything take on its true form and meaning. Then, the constant of life becomes a signpost at the greatest intersection of our existence, guided by the mighty hand of a man who gives you a reason to give yourself to him and surrender anew, every day, with the same fervor.