Controlling possession of my mind,
Not just an interest or pursuit,
But the urge to get lost in words; to be blind,
Everything disappears, even the pain; dilute.
Call it enthusiasm or an addiction,
It is not a simple activity, not even an occupation,
It is something that has to be done to prevent any mental friction,
Not to stop damnation, but to slow down the inner damnation.
Hunting is the latest enthusiasm,
Even some various forms of extreme religion devotion,
Can it be called sarcasm?
Perhaps they are used to the commotion.
The excitement for the arts is gone,
And the depression of a misunderstand world seems to drown us all,
Pleased by being just a simple pawn,
Others just sit and wait to turn old.
“Bee more enthusiastic,” everyone says,
What if that enthusiasm becomes the only driving force?
“It is wrong to have an addiction” or so they say,
What if that addiction is the only think preventing us from falling off the horse?
What to do when enthusiasm get transmuted to addiction?
Is it wrong to be part of ones own crucifixion?
Copyright © 2016 Manuel Osornio-emotionsoflife2016