Three Is A Crowd

Chapter 41: A Bet Is A Bet

What are humans made of?

Skin? Bones? Tissues? Is it stardust? Or the Holy Spirit? Soul, maybe? Or clay?

To people like Lauren - the romantics, the artistic types who find beauty even in the most ordinary place - they will say that humans are made of light and darkness and lost dreams and of potential. They're made of complexities, of opposing views and desires, of logic and craziness. Most important of all is that humans, they believe, are made of passion.

Passion lies deep within people; it's their essence, their drive, their purpose of living. Without it, they're lifeless, soulless; they're zombies aimlessly wandering around with no sense of reason, with no hunger for the finer things in life other than to satisfy the most basic need a creature could have: food (or in a zombie's case, brains), and even then, zombies would find no sense of pleasure in eating. It's just eating, a way of filling the stomach, to stop it from growling, and after that, they find their next meal, just because.

Zombie people live without passion. And without it, they're just robots who simply exist to execute commands.

It is in all of humanity, or it's how it should be. It should guide them, rule them, dominate their minds, even their bodies. It should urge them to follow their dreams. It's the source of joy, of greatest memories, of moments of clarity and freedom which reminds people why they live.

But the thing about passion is that it is so great and liberating that society, and everything it entails, aims to put a leash on it. They all try to tame it, because, to them, passion is the monster that could disrupt the stability and peace of a well-organized hierarchy, as it knows no bounds, no rules, no boxes, no color, no labels; passion is shapeless and untethered.

Unfortunately, most people have forgotten what real passion is, they've hidden it so deep inside them that they don't even know they have it in them. That's why most people are content with what society tells them what to be happy about. What schools, churches, the media, the government tell them what they need and what they don't need. That how they live their lives is the only correct way to live, that anything else out of the ordinary is immoral or sinful or against the law.

That's why most of them are filled with hatred and discontent -- because they have forgotten how it is to truly feel. People without passion are basically living dead -- imagination and dreams sucked out of them so hard they're left shriveled and dried up.

Passion is stardust, it's the blood pumping in their veins, it's the adrenaline rush, it's ecstasy, orgasms, sorrow and grief, heartbreak, it's tears rolling down their cheeks whenever they feel the most potent of human emotions, the smile on their faces when they see beauty and art, the way their heart beats faster when they fall in love, it's the urge to shout on top of a mountain when they feel free and happy.

Passion is, or should be, what forms a human being.

And that's what Camila has discovered with Lauren. It's like she's been ripped open (other than her clothes) and everything has spilled out of her (other than her, well, you know). Sensuality, sexual desire, the thrill of danger, fear, attraction, chemistry, connection, confusion, identity (even existential) crisis. Everything is a jumble of mixed emotions and thoughts inside her, because everything that was taught to her, everything she believes that she's not, everything she thought would never happen to her, now she finds herself torn apart and slowly being reconstructed into a new being.