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It's 2:57 am, just three minutes before 3 am, and I still can't sleep. I just came in from a quick night shower, and that reminded me that I've been stuck here in the dormitory for 2 days now.
My routine? Wake up at 11am, bathe, eat, surf the internet until I get all teary-eyed, sleep, do more surfing, eat, watch the television, hang around until sleep hits me–that is until dawn. This makes me a fine candidate for deep vein thrombosis, heart attack, etc., etc. I am officially sedentary.
I can’t do my art, because I can’t think. Blank. All that I have in mind is live the day as it is. Blankly. Just to let the day pass. Sounds stupid, pointless. Basically, a waste of life. So what am I supposed to do, then?
I want to talk to people, but I can't, since I don’t even know what to say. I'm stuck with my laptop, which seemed to be my best buddy now. I have created a world of my own, which nobody else can relate to. Just me and the pointless stuff I try to amuse myself with, like trying to complete all the albums of my music in the media player, or play Zen Chuzzles forever with the thought of what its ending might be. I do this until my head aches like crap, and my vision starts to blur at the sides.
I’m trying to amuse myself with “The Passion” by Jeanette Winterson, which I simultaneously read as I eat. So far, what I’ve learned is that passion is somewhere between fear and sex. Having a fear is like being insanely agitated by something you do dislike to feel. Having sex is being insanely excited by something you want to feel. One feels euphorically sadistic, while the other feels euphorically heavenly. The mixture of both puts passion in the middle. A euphoric “something” in your life that puts you either in fear of not accomplishing or in sensuality of success is something you might categorize as something you are passionate about.
With that, then what am I passionate about?
There are people who are passionate about saving the world from all the trash it’s into. They call themselves warriors of the earth, put simply – earth freaks. Their passion is so intense that they stop using shampoo to reduce plastic consumption. I shampoo twice daily. I can’t even seem to unplug my laptop. (This is honesty, no offense please. But I'm working on it.)
There are people who claim that they are activists of some sort. They are completely convinced that they are to the point that they shout it out to the whole entire Friendster network. This is funny though, because real activists work underground like silent killers, silent thinkers - purely revolutionary. For years now, activists have been fighting for justice, freedom, and peace. I wonder why until now they fought for the same reasons, like a never-ending battle, a never-ending passion. We all have rebellious thoughts, but not all have rebellious passion. I simply don’t care about politics, though.
I thought I was an artist of some sort. I like creating things. Draw pictures, painting stuff, mixing and matching graphics, etc. The question is, does that make me an artist? What, then, does it takes to be an artist? I don’t know. All I know is that I do all that sorts of stuff because I feel like doing it.
Writers are passionate about literature. They put life in books, which would only add to a waste in paper consumption without their brilliant innovations and, of course, their passion. These people take time to think. And think. And think. Until they create a life of their own making, like a god. When you write, you can create a persona entirely like yourself, like how God created Adam and Eve. Or, you can plan out a life you always wanted to have, but that has never been a part of your destiny. One thing about creation is that you hold the responsibility for what you created. Just like how Jesus held the responsibility to die on the cross for us. That is the real passion.
The passion to create a thought, linger on that thought, and produce that thought is basically a part of human nature. The thing is, there is nothing original to be passionate about. At this very moment, you can be thinking the same thought together with millions or billions of people all over the world. All of you share that same passion. The bottom line is, there is no selfish passion. Passion always comes with making life a little better from one’s point of view, and the willingness to fight for that.
It’s 4:01 am. My head is starting to pound and my hands are a little bit shaky typing. And yes, my vision is starting to blur in the sides. Passion. Just a thought to linger on.
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passion, jeanettewinterson, art, environment, activists, shampoo, plasticconsumption, writing, poetry, newideas, passion, love, jesus, responsibility
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LILAY
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