I am an emotional addict. I am most alive and my words most evoking when my emotions are on edge, when my heart is breaking or I am in the losing proposition. Feelings of emotional turmoil bring me and all of my senses to a boil. When my emotions set forth, I am moved to accomplish more. How can I explain this feeling that is wrapped in deep sensibility, keeping my mind a jumble, yet, clear as a looking glass reflecting the water of clarity. It is an emotional wrench that twists the best part of me into something that is at once unique and highly efficacious. I am at my best under this type of passion. There is no cure and I seek none. It is the sweet pain I feel that lets me know I am alive; otherwise, I feel things in a substantially smaller manner. I am not moved as much by logic and reason as I am by pure emotive force during these tempests of emotion. I need that gut-wrenching feeling that says to me “ you are alive.” Epicurean rapture moves me past the prosaic pensiveness of peacefulness and into absoluteness where it all belongs to me—emotionally speaking.