We are all creatures of passion.
Passions that lead to cravings which are often so irresistible that we overlook the reality of things. The reality of satisfaction, comfort and the heaven we are confined in.
But as primitive as the whole idea of forbidden and sins are, we overlook, to a perhaps more satisfying flame of hell and horror but can we all forget the pleasure of doing so? I am obviously not talking of the original sin. But the more complicated sins of our life. The ambition, the restlessness, the drive and selfishness. The kindness concealed helplessly in our screams.
Cravings can make us crazy. But they can also makes us crazy successful and euphoric.
Nothing looks very white without the black. Something about the darker side is all the very more bearable depending on how bad your craving is.
When the same thing can make us feel like aliens and at the same time validates our sense of belonging.
I am not a very ambitious person, but I am deadly passionate. I have been very high and I have been very low. But why is fucking up so unacceptable anyway?
The perfection in fucking up is just too beautiful.
Can I encircle a single day on the yearly calender to celebrate the day I invite trouble with a smile?
Or is it passion, a simple craving or just another shitty thing?
Its too constricting but I've tried.
Everything you have, everything you are made to believe you have, might be gone in something as lame as an ambulance hitting you while you've been oh so careful.
Life is nothing if not a priceless book on shitty beautiful things.
Happy December 21st.