You could never get enough of that ugly feeling.
That giddiness as you stand in a cliff built out of such anger.
That high of which you are drunk off dissatisfaction, driven mad by that single imperfection you can’t seem to find, that blazing passionate anger of all there is around you.
This discontent made you happy.
The meaning of progress, the reason behind your success.
This ugly feeling.
This vertigo as you stand there, a step away from falling into those pitch black depths of the ocean called content.
You were too far gone into this abyss, there was no other way to move and you couldn’t stop now.
This discontent was the only driving force behind you and you couldn’t let that go.
Not yet in the least.
But even then, there was always a different feeling that lingered, that voice in your head that would scream “Jump.”
You wished that you could.