Objective Romance

Movie: Say Anything
Released in 1989

I’m a hopeless romantic; not the cheesy, all red, letters-in-blood type but the stand-in-my-backyard-while-holding-a-boombox-above-your-head-playing-my-favorite-song type of romantic. But despite my romantic disposition, there’s one thing I’ve learnt to be completely objective about: Loss. I’ve somehow become the person who knows people are going to die, who knows that everyday all over the world children are losing their parents and parents are losing their children and there’s nothing anyone can do about it because that is the circle of life. I’ve become the person who has come to the realization that the only thing that is pre-ordained and cannot be changed, is the expiration date stamped on our souls. Romanticism doesn’t have to be all about stars. It should be about nostalgia, reminiscence and of course romance - the pure, non-cheesy kind. It should never be about loss, because that only casts a shadow on everything else that might otherwise be beautiful. Loss is inevitable, and us, humans, should learn to stop challenging The Inevitable, if only to avoid undue heartache.

Entitled to A Burning Desire

Courtesy :leonidafremov.deviantart.com

There isn’t much passion centered within my existance. There isn’t anything in particular I wanted to do with my life, except maybe write. There’s isn’t anything particular I wanted to be, except maybe brilliant. There isn’t anything particular that I ever needed more than my next breath. But maybe I haven’t come by that thing yet. Aren’t people discovering themselves when they’re old and withered and the surge of passion would be enough to kill them, but it doesn’t, only makes life seem more worthwhile? Maybe my passion is out there, standing in a corner, waiting for me to turn down that road so that it can sneak up on me, take me by surprise and change my world. Maybe my passion is something bigger than the human-sized dreams I have right now. Maybe my passion is beyond all that I yearn for right now, bigger than all the little milestones I need to achieve.

Maybe my passion doesn’t even originate from me. Maybe my passion is the reciprocal of someone else’s passion for all the things that I’m too wise to be proud about. And maybe that passion will be enough to take my breath away someday, when I’m old and wrinkled, and when I’ve forgotten all else but the passion burning in the eyes that I had never seen. Maybe that passion will be enough for my salvation.