Distraction or Passion?

numerous deadlines incoming,

another heavy exam tomorrow morning,

and yet, here I am, thinking, writing

as if all those things are not urgent, like they are nothing

for a long time I have not written a single thing

but words, stories, poems, art- they are so beguiling

despite being gone for a long time, I always find myself returning

as if this is where I belong, as if this is what I am meant to be doing

from time to time, my brain would replay the words of Mr. Keating

"We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because 

we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion"�"a message so captivating

while he may be a work of fiction, such words are as real and as important as the things that keep society standing

so simple yet so profound; those words hold great, significant meaning, specially in these times ever-changing

in a world where the things we stay alive for are overshadowed by the noble pursuits that everyone is chasing,

the passion that I am filled with lies restless whilst I, too, chase said noble pursuits, against my very own being

but what truly matters is that this passion will forever keep my heart beating

and from time to time, it will creep out, offering me solace and allowing me to keep going; "carpe diem," it is shouting