Passion

Passion is, in essence, uniquely human and therefore seriously beautiful. Just the fact that we care about things--living things, nonliving things, idea things--that fact alone is so simply overwhelming to me in that it's completely unnecessary but unbelievably significant. What even is passion? It's invisible and lacks any mass or chemical makeup, but oh man does it matter. It exists without being real. Passion, just like all unreal existences, is seen only through the results of its stimulation in someone; and just look at where passion has gotten us. It gives us art, and that alone is too much to idolize here. It gives us music, purpose that we can create and hear. It gives us life. Passion is happiness's fuel, it's what drives us to be more than the animals we were. Life without passion is a fire with no flame. When animals were given their tools for survival, we were given our passion to not only live in this world, but to reshape it into something new, to create so that we could feel pride and other triumphs. Passion has its downfalls; just as the wind may sweep up a leaf into the air, so may it blow it back to the ground.