The most important thing in the world is to be who you really are.

You owe us that. The mask you wear—that normal, half-smiling, beer-drinking, weather-discussing, people-pleaser that you pretend to be—has been done before.

Show me your face.

Tell me a story of your idea. Paint me a picture of your craziness. Sing me a song of your inner world. I will not understand it, at first, but I will sit back and marvel at what has been brewing within you for all this time.

Don’t fuck with me. You are not regular. You are weird in all kinds of magnificent ways.

And that inspires me.

I do not want your lukewarm smile. I do not want your white bread words. I do not want to play patty-cake with your mediocrity.

Give me your claws or tears or blinding radiance.

Give me everything.

Show me your face.