The Cadence Scroll

To be misunderstood is not a curse.
It is the clearest sign that you are no longer marching to the metronome of the crowd.

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Most move the same.
Talk the same.
Think the same thoughts, breathe the same shallow breath.
Sameness is safe, but it is lifeless.

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The man who holds his own rhythm, his own cadence, cannot be easily categorized.
He unsettles. He confuses.
Some won’t know how to stand near him.
But the thirsty always notice.

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Because thirst is real.
And in a desert of autopilot, a single human who breathes clarity is living water.

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You can walk where the air is recycled,
or walk with the one who exhales raw presence.
The choice is obvious.