Often times we put up with crap that comes our way: crap from people we care for, crap from people we can't help but to care for, crap from people we can't care less for, crap from school, crap from work, and the list goes on indefinitely. Nonetheless, there's always that one thing that somewhat strums your strings in the most evocative kind of way, not necessarily it's because you love it first, but you can't refrain from loving it even when you tell yourselves otherwise, from time to time. And no, it's not just about the movements, but it's also about the fellowship that follows, about the experience in entirety that sucks you back in, no matter how many times you thought you have fallen out of love with it. I am really blessed to have been endowed with the gift of passion: to irrationally, helplessly and at times unconditionally be passionate for that one cause. It can't be faked, it can't be denied-- even when you tried your hardest at it because you know it's for your own good. Hopefully I'm not lecturing; I'm just sharing, since if by some turn of event, through equivocality, I could persuade you to share this gift, in your own way, I be damned-- in a good way that is-- because really, the feeling it gives is just incredible.
