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Passion

Written by Raymond Santos Estrella on Saturday, 25 March 2000. Posted in 2000

The second semester is finally over and I’ve just finished the second day of my summer vacation. It just doesn’t seem all that fun when I’m smack in the middle of something I’ve been desiring since the start of the school year. Something is holding me back and I don’t know what it is. Its right there, right there in the back of my head, the bottom of my heart, and the tip of my tongue. I just can’t put my finger on it. Its like in the Matrix, I’m searching for the answer to the question.

I’ve been thinking about this subject on and off for a few months now and I’m still stumped. I don’t know what I’m passionate about. I don’t know what I’m going to do for the rest of my life.

Passion is that drive, the hunger, the need for something. Whether the goal is concrete or abstract, passion should be there. It’s the compulsive behavior for what this world has to offer and I seem to be lacking in that aspect of my psyche.

These past few weeks I’ve been feeling that familiar sense of urgency, that gut feeling that something within me is itching at my insides, waiting to be scratched and I don’t know what it is. When I play the piano, for example, I can feel that desire, that demon waiting to be released and yet I’m holding back. What is the that hurdle that keeps me from funneling that desire into my work? I don’t know.

I’m afraid that I may not have anything to be living for. Is it for the new day or new opportunities? I’m afraid not because I wake up tired and irritated at the rest of the world. I have this great desire to just vent out my feelings and let go. I don’t want to be tied up to the norms of society. I guess that I’ve always had a problem with authority. I’ve been suppressed for too long. What’s holding me back? Self control, I guess. I don’t know. I’m just a person who is so damn fucking tired of being let down over and over again-by myself and others.

I’ve been thinking more and more about shifting into a different course and yet, something is again holding me back. I’m afraid that if I leave these friends I’ve grown so fond of, things will never be the same. I’m afraid that if I leave now, I’ll never know what could’ve been if I’d had stuck around. I’m afraid that if I don’t take that chance of taking a different course in life, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

There’s too many damn choices and not enough time to think about them. I don’t want to follow in anyone’s footsteps, although that would be the safest way to go. I mean, its not that I have anything against pioneers in any such field, its just that I know I’m someone different and I want to take a path that’s all my own. I want to take the road not taken like Robert Frost but going that way would be following his path in life. Maybe, as T.S. Elliot said, originality is dead. There probably is nothing more to invent, no new feeling to experience, just modifications of old ideas, old traditions.

It’s scary to think that there may not be anything for me at the end of this travel, that I will die a lonely and my true potential won’t be realized. I need some passion in my life. I need to feel what Rilke said about writing, that you would rather die than not write. I wish I could feel that desire but I’m afraid that I’m just kind of numb right now.

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Raymond

Raymond Santos Estrella

I guess I should really make a proper writeup here. Something witty or maybe a joke to add some levity. I’ll come back to this when I have time. If you have any suggested copy that I can insert here, drop me a line.

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