I'm not nice.
Nice is for Sunday school teachers, bank tellers and kindergarten teachers. Those professions require the patience of a saint, a friendly demeanor, and a steel resolve.
Nice for you and me is deadly. Nice is safe, middle of the road and decidedly middle of the pack.
Nice doesn’t stick it’s neck out. Nice accepts the status quo for itself and demands the same of others.
Nice is potatoes without salt, plain vanilla ice milk, plain toast, a number #2 pencil with the point broken off.
Nice is boring.
You’re not nice. You’re a gazelle who outruns the lion. You stare adversity in the face, and say ‘bring it’. And you mean it.
You’re imaginative yet practical. Kind, but tough. Naughty but tasteful. Reassuring yet assertive. Disrupting yet collaborative. Provocative yet introspective.
You have opinions, and you voice them. You’re no shrinking violet, yet you don’t need to always be the center of attention.
You’re not nice. What a terrible thing to say to someone.
No, you’re wild. You’re everything wild and wonderful in this world.