pragmatism

if i was illusioned and too idealistic for my own good in the past - an obstinate child who had enclosed herself in a temporal, romanticised bubble redolent of personal ideals,
i have woken up.

perhaps i may have fallen prey to society's tyranny over the individual or may simply have undergone a change of heart - either way, only now do i realise that i do not actually love what i like to the extent of being a martyr for it.

chase my dreams? follow my heart? capitalise on my passion(s)? all these are hefty ideals which can only lead to the ultimatum of "all or nothing". i am not prepared to end up with nothing. i simply do not love them that much. yet, this does not discount the pleasure of revelling in these things which i still treasure. they are tools of recreation & i intend to magnify their worth by reserving them for leisure.

(passion absent of opportunities will forever remain as a latent inclination, a throbbing in the heart that yearns for actualisation but is denied of a concrete, corporeal body.)

for once, i think my heart is reconciling with my rational head.
for this i am thankful, thankful that i can perhaps stop waiting so earnestly anymore.