Passion

I used to be passionate about things. I used to want to chase tornados. . .film them with hail raining down around me and understand them better, save lives, do something that matters. I wanted to cure cancer, save animals from extinction, create an art exhibit, swim with a great white shark. . .each time I was told "You can't do that" "It's impossible" "Don't be silly". And, after a while of being told this as a child, you come to accept that you truly cannot change the world. And I know I know, you are thinking, "But you could overcome! Be the exception to the rule". Bull shit. There is no true exception to the rule. No one really transcends reality. It breaks the majority of us. Those that seem to pass thru it are empty. They become hollow symbols of what it truly means to be "human". Their achievements are put on posters in broken down public schools. There, behind a glossy film, they stand with their arms lifted in triumph with something like, "Believe in Your Dreams" underneath. Every hero I have had turns out they were depressed, suicidal, or feared for their life. So, Bah humbug. Life is indeed pointless, excuse the cynicism. But it is true. There are no real achievements, only short lived periods of happiness. No one really accomplishes anything. So why try?