Psychology is the art of translating our interpretation of the language of the soul. Learning to what extent we are capable of controlling it. Figuring out why you look at things the way that you do. It's essential knowledge to understand the way in which you interpret your emotions. During the last couple of weeks, I've come a long way into figuring out mine.

I'm a Melancholic Optimist. I want life to be so special and despise people who settle for what I feel to be mediocrity. People that don't see or live life to its full potential. I reprimand them for it. The gathered masses of modern society represent an isolation from bigger things, a measure of the ordinary by which I tend to feel entrapped. Cut off from the ideal and distant. This aversion from simplicity leads to an insisting desire of individuality, expressing itself by means of creativity. I want a miracle to happen and almost insist on its beauty. I like to believe I've lived to witness several. I demand on a certain depth of value in everything that my life consists of; fascinated by the impossibility of perfection and repelling things that come too easy. I'm confident and proud of the level of awareness in which I live my life and thrive upon finding the people in millions with whom I share this understanding. I feel the pain that comes with living to be just as special as its delight and always need the corresponding emotions to be understood. Both by myself and by the people I love. I'm a Four.

This individualism reflects itself in everything; my work, my music, my appearance, my need to travel and even my lovelife. Of course, living life with demands as high as mine always comes with the risk of disappointment. And I often have been. Nonetheless, I've grown to believe in the result of persistence. I refuse to settle for shooting at what I know I can hit.

Shoot for the moon
and you might come even further than what you thought you were capable of.