Intensity is life without pre-apology.
Is any great human being not intense and not reproved for it? Training, focusing one’s attention like a laser, sunbeam or lightning is a virtue, excitement, action, the party, the “happening”. It can be disastrous in service of madness or violence but even love can be sullied by evil. Guided by kindness, even if deemed “offensive” by the tired, cautious, cynical or spent, it is open-hearted and wise: to revel in energy for its own sake. Intensity upon waking (before tea?) is trying, with infants or very old abusive, with political or pop culture hair-splitting vanity & excessive with every obsession. Obsession is intentionally wasted attention and life-negation: intensity imitated to malign. If not filtered by emotion, ideology — any paraphrase — it yields expression and energy. Shall we favor the seed or stalk over a blossom or flower? Shall we reproach the sun for the moon’s pale glow? Whence love’s source of light? Whereforever it’s energy?