An Icelandic Murder Ballad for Passion

I woke up a few days ago to realize something. 

I have zero passion. None. Like a fountain that has been dried up in a drought, it’s just about gone. 

I can’t seem to have the drive to do anything without being met with 50000 different things about it that always defeats me from moving forward. 

  1. That book’s too long
  2. My attention span is too short
  3. I’m already past the prime of my own life. 
  4. If I wanted to do something, I should have started it a while ago. Now I don’t know if I have the energy to do it. 
  5. There’s so much to learn…. 
  6. My focus is just terrible
  7. I have nothing to rely on. 
  8. But how can I even bother doing something when I don’t have the plan/info/knowledge/intelligence/capacity? 

The list goes on. Like I said 50000 reasons. 

But then others keep saying, it’s just because you haven’t found what you’re looking for yet. 

*I* don’t even know what I’m looking for! I feel like a blind man in a pitch black room looking for a black cat. And I’ve been looking for almost 30 years now at what it was that I wanted to do and every single thing I thought I could do knocked me down. But then again, my own assertion and lack thereof of any sort of passion reflect in my normal life. 

It’s not like I want nothing for myself. Trust me: I want nothing but the world in the palm of my own hands. I salivate at the very notion of changing the world and creating a crater within the annals of history with my own name scrawled within the dirt and etched in the surrounding boulders. 

But every single time, my own rules hold me back. The same rules that people worship and kept my own self safe… I find the hardest time even challenging these notions within my own brain. 

What do I want? Well, I didn’t even know I had that option available to me. What does that even mean to someone like myself, whose only “passion” was surviving and making sure that something terrible didn’t happen to me, because no one else was gonna do it for me. Why should they anyways? Fiercely independent me? What kind of nonsense is this that I wanted someone to make sure I was ok. I was the only one to ensure that I was ok, and that’s the way that it was going to be. 

My passion lies in survival. Whatever you define passion as. But even then, what is it with all this business about “finding” it in the first place? I read somewhere that it’s not about finding passion, it’s about creating it. I realize that in this pursuit, perhaps I just have created so many ideas that I have simply run out. 
Maybe I’m washed up and useless in my pursuits as I surrender and see nothing else. Am I happy in my surrender? No, I never was, but here I am based in the defeated side wondering how to excel once more. I have my wings back, but now how to fly? This is the grand mystery that I am now presented with. I have to create the current underneath my wings using my own energy and that right there is the hard part. Why do I fly? What is my purpose in flying? Flying is dangerous. Yes, I will be free, but… wow I don’t… actually have anything. The excuses that pop into my head are nothing. 
–> Chains? Chains are comfy to you? Having this chaff at your ankles is comfortable to you? Not using your wings to fly is an abomination and an insult to your own creativity. 

So then why do I stay on the ground? Fear of falling? Everyone has that. Drastic measures work sometimes, but so do those silent moments. Do not fear the silence. 

Also, it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. 

Anyways, my zero passion or drive have played into this whole thing as I feel different about the things I once enjoyed and then grew tired of as I was faced with a new level of challenge. Aren’t I supposed to enjoy this challenge, to be able to play with the big players now instead of feeding my ill-adjusted ego? Why do I keep playing the child to favor my own whimsical and ridiculous play? If I want something, ’tis time to be an adult and go do it. The child in me wants nothing more than to be safe, but this new part of me is saying, GO GO GO GO GO!! 

Maybe that’s the anxiety talking, but now I have a way to alchemize it. Through visualization of certain situations, I can create a new environment by playing those certain scenarios in my head and going forward should they occur. Not bad scenarios, but different ones, like what will happen when I grow bored and weary of the same sport, of the same thought, the same rut of social anxiety when it arises? Normally, I might resort to an alter ego to take care of the social aspect, as acting has been a thing for me… to see who I can fool into believing something else about me. The deflection of the trail. I used to be quite good at it until I realized I shouldn’t lie to those I call my friends. And I stopped. But now I’m wondering if that one alter ego is still in there waiting to be reactivated. But even then would I truly want to? Once again just to feed the ego itself? What would be the motivation behind it? I truly don’t think there would be any except for the self-serving aspect that needs to feed off social approval. Just to see, just to see…. That’s the only thing I see.

 More principles. I need them. Something unshakeable and solid. I thought my ID would be the best way to grapple myself against this Promethean rock, but that rock appears unsteady at most. My identity is ever changing. Principles… that’s a different matter. But even then I can defeat myself with all sorts of contradictions. If I say kindness is a principle, I would have to make room for forgiveness for when I’m a bitch to someone. Or give a justifiable reason. Why was I bitch to that person? I have normally gone off on social consensus on questions like this, believing the majority would know what was more readily acceptable… but even then that’s an unreliable standard as people change and concepts and laws change all the time. Where is there to have a steady foundation on anything? I can defeat just about any idea that pops into my head, yet my own sense of empathy and understanding have my unquestioning air to others around me. Again I rely on society to dub me in the ways of how I my own self should think. 

To fucking hell with all that. I’m tired of relying on others outside myself on what to think. I’m going to make my own curren and fuck everything else. 

But now where do I go?
Well, where do you want to go? 
I want to fight. I want to fight for justice. I want to be Batman. 
…….Batman, huh?
How long is this going to continue?
Until I get my passion and will to live back. 
That might be a while. 
Yep. Get comfy. 



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