Dear Mark,

The struggle has left you tattered, frayed, ripped; tangled in the broken strings of your own thoughts. What you have yet to understand, however, is that the struggle is not unique to you. It is the very essence of humanity, the consequence of consciousness. Though the animals hunt and beat and kill mindlessly, they don’t have that electric alarm, reminding them of their own existence.

This is our condition. Eternally cursed by evolution’s most precious gift.

Know this: You must shred yourself to pieces in order to see clearly the colors burning in each scrap. The finest contours and features of your inner self will become visible only when you have spent the time to look at every little piece after it’s been torn off. The greatest beauties are in the smallest details.

So my advice to you is: Do not ever attempt to avoid being broken. I don’t yet know how or why, but the meaning of every self-rupture is love. Once you love the fault lines in each bone of your body, you become more than the sum of your parts.

Yes: Love. Do not seek out the relationships which will offer you the security of status. Your words are the most precious things you have; use them only when the depth of the moment cannot be grasped with silence.

Likewise, don’t waste your time striving for the meaningless favor of the Many. There are members of the Few out there - those who value the embrace of one more than the acknowledgement of several - and your greatest pleasure will be in finding them. Remember that your goal is not to be envied, but to be loved.

Perhaps most importantly, do not shackle yourself to long-term commitment. Trust me: You know very little about yourself, now. You cannot possibly give fully to one person in a time when you have so much of yourself still to gain. You may shudder in the cold front of her absence, but you stand only to hurt her by trying to give more than you have.

Finally, don’t hesitate to act on the changes you desire. Your instincts are often more valuable than your logic. Which is to say: Your heart may well be a better guide than your mind. Be what you feel; not what you think.

I write this knowing that at this point in your life, my words are hollow. They mean nothing to you because how can they? All of my knowledge is but a product of my previous unknowing. I write to correct yesterday, but yesterday’s struggles have reaped today’s words.

So my friend, when the day closes and the final sun sets, you’ll have no choice but to laugh softly. You ventured out to discover the world, only to realize that the world itself was inside you. And you just weren’t ready to find it. The irony of life is that in one’s youth, glory is constantly at his fingertips; but it is only with age, when the parade has faded and dusk has swallowed the day, that one builds the strength and dexterity in his hands to grasp it. When you realize this: What else is there to do but laugh?