Thank you, dishonesty. Without you, I might not have had any of the fantastic experiences that you’ve induced during of my short existence so far because the truth actually hurts immediately and a lie can last forever.
Thank you, melancholy. If you weren’t there with me at all times, I’d know no good music; I’d never have ever committed a single word to a page and I’d never have traveled as far and wide as I have just to experience something, anything, other than you.
Thank you, poverty. Without you, I’d have no real perspective on what’s important or any perceivable gravitas. I’d have been unable to believe in luck at all if you and I hadn’t lived together as long as we have. Opportunity wouldn’t have seemed essential to my growth.
Thank you, abandonment. Without you, I’d be stuck living a life that I hated with the first boy that I had ever kissed instead of understanding that relationships with others don’t define me as much as the one that I have with myself does.
Thank you, shame most of all. If you weren’t the trigger that I needed to hold back my genuine and immediate reaction to negative circumstantial stimuli at times, I’m certain that my flame would have been extinguished near the demise of the 20th century and there would be no one on the other side of this keyboard to be desperately grateful for life.

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