Raining Down To Reality

Some people say that passion is the greatest of all emotions. Some say it is the most valuable of all, others will say it is the core of all others and that many lack that core component. Being more passionate than every single person on this planet makes me wonder if all those who say these things have any idea what true passion really is about.

Sure, you can look it up in a dictionary.

Sure, you can 'think' that you know what it entails, what it means to have it burning within you, you can even kid yourself that you have it in you.

The truth is... no one has a clue. How could anyone have a clue as to how powerful a crushing wave it is when released at once when people can only feel numbed down versions of it from the moment they were born?

I tell you now, reader... Passion is everything you never got to feel. It's like burning fire within, exactly like wildfire. And that is why it must always be contained, or handled with the greatest of care. Why? because fire burns. Wildfire can burn everything at once.

So I learned for myself that this passion within I was born with must either be contained, or handled with the greatest of care... So that it doesn't burn and destroy everything when it could become the one unique power to reach perfection - sublimity, as I so often like to call it in a nutshell.

I was never meant for this world of yours. I mean... really. I wasn't. I keep thinking 'how can I be born the way I am, be the way I am, in such a world that was never wired to cope with my kind? A world whose emotions and depths of thought are about as deep as a toddler's swimming pool...'

Sure, there are many great brains out there. Philosophers who come up with mindboggling concepts, scientists who invent the most far-fetched things, doctors who can cure the uncurable, writers who become the next Shakespeare, composers who create masterpiece for the ear... whatever. They all follow the same pattern, they all fit in the great scheme of Life as the whole world knows it. They are all different and yet so alike...

Because... For every apparent difference lies complete similarity. The detail may differ, but the whole remains the same stiff and contrived picture. And if that picture happens to be fractured, then it matters not that the detail should be intact, for the whole continues to remain intrinsically broken.

I see this broken picture of a world so very clearly in my mind's eye, and I fight against it with all the might of my inner self...

But still I wonder: what am I doing here. I was only a child and I dreamed of escape because at the time I already felt there had been a mistake - this was not the world I wanted to live in. I wanted to escape where my inner self felt freer and more 'at home'... in a fantasy land. Somewhere, anywhere, so long as it did not include this reality.

The coldness of reality... Can anyone else ever feel it? I feel it constantly. Cold, ruthless, blind, predictable and... pointless.

Passion was never supposed to exist in reality... people can only ever deal with it or understand its true nature within the 'safe' realm of fantasy... Isn't it lovely to watch a good movie full of passionate people? Isn't it lovely to read a book depicting a passionate hero or heroin? Sure... It is lovely and we seek to get our next fix all the time because - again - the passion we witness belongs to the realm of fantasy... so people feel safe, they feel they can indulge in kidding themselves that because they read about passion they know what it actually is in reality. Well, let me make one thing clear: they DON'T.

If they did... They wouldn't be spending their entire existence trying to anihilate passionate people in reality. Like leetches, they spot the passion burning within the person, and they will drain, and drain, and they will stab, and stab...

It is a dying breed, my kind. Sometimes I find myself wishing I was different. In other words, I find myself wishing I was just as bland and numb as everyone else, just so I can breathe again and heal my inner wounds.

Passion has no place in this world. I should know. Anyone claiming otherwise does not know what true passion is about. If they knew, they would know that it must always be handled with great care - because wildfire burns, and it can burn everything.

And then I look up at the sky, at its unrestrained infinity... and I am reminded that though this life is more like a painful joke on my account, there is still pure beauty and a glimpse of what freedom ought to feel like out there.

But not here. Here, everything is as much dead as it thinks itself alive.