There’s a reason we call it a comfort zone.
It comforts us; keeps us composed and conforming as a connected consciousness, a casual occurrence causing a crevice to cumulate cache in our collective ego. Consequently, our confidence calls to us in such a way that it creates cowardice. So we continue to channel this consternation, In fear for what fortunes may fall upon us from faraway Or form from what fathomless funds of refusal we’ve forgotten.
But what if..? What if we come forth and consent to a conclusion that We control and compass the course of our self’s circle of life. What if we ceased this covetous, unquenchable quest of curiosity? We could commit to confide in the cavalier of courtesy, We could create citizenship and conquer constraint, We could convert our content into care. And carry with us some kind of complacency, Compiled with compassion and consolation, If only and only if we could concede the convenience of our comfort zones.
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