The Thing We Call Passion: Restlesness

This thing that screams. With a scream so restless and urgent. The tone of it enough that you beg to be shattered.

It's the uncontrolled desire to be lost. To forget and be forgotten. It's eager and greedy for adventure and loneliness. But not the lonely part of loneliness, the solid part.

Being ravenous for the unknown but reluctant to learn, for the things you know you hate. It will not be pacified.

Living dead center in your chest. It takes you hostage. With lenses that show, you despise the things you thought you loved. The only promise of release...a new place.

And so you leave. Knowing the thing will be pacified. Lulled into satisfied slumber at the expense of your life.

You begin to build your kingdom. Piece by piece, until they fit, each part snug against the next. And you smile and release your held breath.

And in the silence between your exhale and the next breath you breathe. This wild thing awakes and you discover, with equal parts excitement and despair, that the keystone to your kingdom is in the hands of the beast.