Sometimes you feel this drive. This unwanted force so loud and wild in you.
Like a small fire that refuses to die down.
And you wonder if this is the real you, if this is a desire you’ve held in for so long that finally wants to burst out. A voice that’s been told to stay quiet for too long. A voice longing to speak up.
And you can’t sleep. You barely touch your food. Your mind remains a relentless radio, blasting words of motivation and encouragement.
“Go for it. Say it. Say it.”
But you know it’s not the right thing to do. It’s not the right time to make a move.
Then you retreat to your corner, dark and cold, quiet and unheard, keeping the fire for your personal warmth.
But a fire like that, if not let out, will die down slowly.
In the end, you will be left without a spark. No more desire. No more strength. No more word left to even ponder upon.
You will nod to what everyone else has to say, understand whatever the society imposes on you, and take in the many insults thrown your way.
You take in injustice as is. You don’t question or challenge. You submit.
And your little fire is long forgotten. Your little fire is merely a history. But history is recorded. Your passion isn’t.
Until one day you wake up and realize, that the little fire is you, and it’s in your hands to keep it alive.