It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache
for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your hearts longing. It doesn't
interest me how old you are. I want to know if you would risk looking like a
fool for your love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive. I want to
know if you can peer in the marrow of your own soul without the fear of man. I
want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, or have you been
opened by life's betrayals, or have you become shriveled and closed from fear of
further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without
blaming and heal the pain with solutions. If you can dance with wildness and let
the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us
to be careful, to be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human. I
want know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bare
the accusation of betrayal and not betray me or your own soul; if you can be
without vow and still be trustworthy. I want to know that when we fight you will
not allow us to go to bed with broken hearts or hard feelings.I want to know if
you can stay all night thinking and thinking, demanding from your own brain the
best that it can offer. It doesn't interest, me what a beautiful face you have or
that smile you can flash. I want to know if you can shout to the universe when
the sky is dressed in black and say I dare you.It doesn't interest me where you
live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after a night
of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and set yourself on fire
with ambition and dance to it as it painfully burns you for a single purpose. It
doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have s