Silence

I like being quiet. I don't see the point in talking so much when I've nothing better to say. I like being quiet. That's me. I love the silence. I love the solitude. I love the ringing in my ears when things get too quiet.I love the stillness of the night.I love immersing myself in my own thoughts. My own fleeting thoughts. I love the dead of the night, when ironically it is the only part of the day when I feel the most alive. I love the musky scent of the night air. The night is when I close my eyes, and feel that anything is possible. Anything. A zombie apocalypse ( still believe that it might still happen someday, zombies > Aliens any day ),attending Cannes, anything you name it.

The darkness does not scare me. Apart from the fact that I can't see shit ( I've mild night blindness). It is up to us to search for the meaning of our existence. I can confidently say that I've found what I wanted to do after 18 years. The passion burns in the deepest pits of my heart. I've never felt so alive. These days I'm probably running on passion alone ( and the occasional cussing and swearing). Passion to override the exhaustion of the late nights. Passion to ease the burden of juggling several projects at once.

Passion it is a wonderful wonderful thing/chemical(?). It awakens up a part of you that you never knew existed. It is like passion is the fuel that revs us up, like the surge of nicotine to a seasoned smoker,like the gush of blood bulleting down South to a testosterone filled youth who discovered Jizzhut for the first time.

If there's no passion, there won't even be love in the first place.