I am not as phlegmatic as some may think, for my eruptions and disturbances lie deep beneath my well plowed and tended stoic soil. The cauldron of my emotional state is one that lies under extreme pressures, and deep within the bowels of my earthen surface. While observers may see an impassible regolith, deep within lies a volcano in wait, pregnant with destructive force. I have been for many, their words not mine, “the rock” to their effervescence, their anchor well entrenched into my sides, but little do they know that an inferno lies in wait.
