How passionate are you? (Prose-Poetry)
I dreamt I met a Fine Arts professor in a museum somewhere. But the dream was so short I hadn’t given the chance to answer her question for m
And so the moment I woke up, I wrote this. I know that I had to. Her question really made me think, it put a big question mark in my head. That dreamt left me the worst feeling of hanging. It was a cliff hanger and I was on the edge of it. I wrote this feeling every word and reflecting and realizing how far and how impactful writing is for m
“How passionate are you?
“I write.”
Genuinely I got that answer from the bottom of my heart. I hope it would be enough to tell you writing is passion and I am putting all through it. Because I do not ‘just write’ nor ‘simply write’, I express and whenever I express, I live—I breathe.
All I know that this madness makes me passionate, this feeling of like I am still not found makes me eager to find myself, and this emptiness makes me crave for being whole, to be complete.
Those people who cannot understand would simply say that writing is dull and boring. Those people who do not understand you, who did not read behind the lines, those who cannot comprehend and decipher will simply underestimate you and your answer “I write".
But I know someone is still out there who is eager to study and read you thoroughly. And they will know that this is more than just these gentle taps in screens // the rhythmic clicks and clatters of typewriters // heat from friction of calloused hands brushed against papers // more than taints of inks // more than crumpled papers—writing is more than what you see and observe, there are more in it:
People of different kinds: one will never know your story unless they *(walk-in-your-shoes)* read your book/life, yet the other one will understand you even in their first sight.
When you dig deeper—no, decipher further rather, this is also about the lies of poets that lays beneath those metaphors. About death calls and messages for help that could be found sometimes on the most unexpected line;
"Ironically, I am an open book that no one dared to comprehend..." This is me saying i felt unappreciated and misunderstood.
Sometimes it could be about hatred, anger, issues, and insecurities, or complicatedly about heartaches, torment, and pain. For what lies beneath are not only thrills and heartbreak that you could not ever call simple. Further and further you would even come to realization and reminisce those past centuries that those greatest poets and painters never really died. They lived through generations, born in new ages; masterpieces do not die.
Indeed—because we paint words, we make worlds, we craft arts, speak truths (behind lies), and those live and we live not by just blood but through knowledge, power, and nature.
Passion means art. And art will never be dull, writing will never ever be, because this is passion, rebellion; this is extravaganza, a renaissance of all greatest things. This is how passionate I am. How passionate are you?
Renésmee Neverfound
An aspirant writer and artist. To be found is my greatest dream and never be lost. Hi, I am @rene.neverfound, you can call me Rene or Esme if you like. I specialized in prose-poetry and poetry, and now I am trying new things and writing styles. I love learning! I am a 17-year-old girl living life in the Philippines. I am a total bookworm and a grade 11 student with an undying passion for writing and art. Having many dreams is a funny mess because I get confused most of time with regard to what course should I take in college. I want to be an astrologist, a doctor, a journalist, an author, a professional artist, an archaeologist, and many more I forgot to remember while writing this.
