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  • Writer's pictureLina

“What’s your passion?”

“What’s your passion?”


he asked me with a grin during a quiet moment as the dj switched between songs, and turned his ear to listen to my response.


I had just danced so hard I had to catch my breath, my hair was in knots and my body was pulsing itself alive. Deep in the flow. I laughed and looked up to the sky. The crescent moon was set perfectly behind the stage, winking at me. The day was tie dying the sky into night. I had driven through six states, through a canyon painted red by iron, crossed through a forest and over a rambling river to get here. I walked in like a kid in a candy store, eyes wide with awe and not a single care in the world besides what was right in front of me. A smile plastered across my face so big I was sure it might get too heavy for my jaw to carry. Not giving a single fuck about what anyone thought of me because I came here alone. Knowing and owning that confident, attractive energy radiating from of me. It was one of those moments when everything that was happening in my life just made sense. It was all for this, right here and right now. This tiny blip of pure joy and bliss and presence is why I am here on this planet during this time and space living this exact reality. I felt like my heart was going to explode with how much energy I could feel jolting through it. I was sober and yet the potent awareness that everything is perfect had me feeling intoxicated by this very moment, high on this sweet life.


The dj started up his next song and as the bass rippled through my bones again, my lips unhinged with the dance of my smile and my body began to move in its own intuitive way. Before the music could drown out my words I looked back at him and said,


“This.”



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