It is our duty to endure alienating discomfort, and, toward the end of our preordained missions, singular pain. Our lives will not be breezy. Our condition will isolate us from family and friends. It will render contemporary structures of happiness ridiculous, unattainable, or both. This is our Toll, and it is one we embrace because we know that our condition also unlocks the affected consciousness to nirvana. As my grandmother used to say: your gift is your cross.
