Creatures of Passion

Such a great maelstrom to be triggered by so few words. A simple phrase of mundane sounds delivers anguish of the sacred injured, or even lost. Calm comes first. In truth, its shock. A collective system, your sentience, struggling to integrate information that it can’t accept. The mind is tough, though, and yet still malleable. Acceptance occurs. And it happens in layers, working from the outside in. A thin veneer of truth surrounding a tempestuous storm of defiance.

At the core, hidden behind veils of turbulence, a throbbing sphere of pain. A line of agonized warmth running through the torso, from top to bottom. From here, the storm rages outward even as the truth pushes inward. Wherever the two meet they clash, as they must. Powerlessness is one of those facts, the unacceptable kind. Hellbent on survival, we’re designed to fight, no matter the odds.

The truth moves inward with a succession of battles. Each layer changed represents bursts of pain. Anguished acceptance marking its inroads. Yet the defiance is strong and lengthens the journey; an illusion given power. Yet far greater is the illusion that ignoring knowledge changes facts. This is about grief, but it goes so much farther. When defined by feelings and idealizing passion, this process is crucial, but it comes at a cost. Identity and growth are gained through pain.