I will never be famous, or powerful, or rich. I will never be recognized by the world for my great accomplishments. A handful of people will know my name and remember it. I will live quietly and peacefully and I will love and feel passionately. Everything I can.
Out of the greatest intellectual and artistic minds that we all study and fawn over, not a one of them was sane. The ones who lived only to live, simply because they could not stop themselves from it. From painting, or writing, or thinking or feeling. They were insane and tormented, and genius. Van Gogh, Picasso, Bach, Mozart, Chopin, Plato, Einstein, H.S. Thompson, etc etc. All suffered thanks to the way they saw the world. Suffered for being more attuned to what made them tick. What would have happened if Van Gogh had access to prozac? Would we ever have seen his starry skies?
I would rather feel it all then feel nothing. There is a price to pay for being passionate.
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