I need conversation.

The problem with strangers is that they don’t come with a promise, but I’m reaching out.

You’re not just “A” stranger, you’re MY stranger; and in this fateful communion may we both find solace, familiarity and unbound connection.

Every new experience, be it good or bad, creates a new limitation or inhibition that occupies precious mind space. The less mind space we’re left with, the less we’re capable of adventure or maneuver. Fear dominates and bitter acid burns our throats.

Fear evolves and feeds on itself and the only thing you could still rely on is your instinct. But your instinct is no longer an inborn impulse; no longer free from prejudice, from decay. It’s bruised and biased, just like you. Your instinct failed you time and again; so little faith you have left in it.

In case you’re wondering if you’re in this alone, just know that all stories stem from one another and pour into each other. All stories are one.

Rid yourself of that mind clutter and baggage. Create more space for yourself and for potential; for new stories. Bring yourself back to that blissful state of naught, when you were devoid of experience and your page was blank. Be pristine again. Have no judgment and fear no judgment.

All strangers are mine and we’re all lurking within tomorrow; an idiom for life, a feast for the heart.  

Look a stranger in the eye and say “Bare your heart to mine; I’m most warm when you’re naked”.