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Saturday, February 28, 2009

{ I'm not dead }

Sometimes when I hear people talking about their life objectives and expectations I feel that none of them lives with passion. Sometimes I even think that they never felt passion before.

What is passion?

For me is some kind of magic. I feel a little tingling on my veins, a burning in my soul and I can't breathe. I just can't do whatever I have to do, whenever and wherever. I have to do things when I feel them and I get that funny feeling that passion gives me.

I don't know how to satisfy the passion in me for the things I love, I just know that I will die if I pretend I don't care about them and pretend they don't exist. I can not settle with any work, with any man, with any place.

I have passion in me.

“Passion, it lies in all of us, sleeping... waiting... and though unwanted... unbidden... it will stir... open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us... guides us,passion rules us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love... the clarity of hatred... and the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion maybe we'd know some kind of peace but we would be hollow, empty rooms shuttered and dank. Without passion we'd be truly dead.” 

- Joss Whedon -

1 comment:

Joan Doe said...

hola! he leído tu comentario en mi blog donde me pides el comic de pushing daisies: ¿a que e-mail te lo puedo inviar?
ciao :-)


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