My Dear,
Find what you love and let it kill you. Let it drain you of your all. Let it cling onto your back and weigh you down into eventual nothingness. Let it kill you and let it devour your remains. For all things will kill you, both slowly and fastly, but it's much better to be killed by a lover.
-Falsely yours

Charles Bukowski.

Bukowski. Not as in Kick Buttowski, please.

I first saw the quote 'Find what you love and let it kill you' as a tattoo. Funny thing, isn't it? Initially, I thought it was all about a lust for life. You have to discover yourself and your desires so thoroughly that you're certain about them, enabling you to pursue your goals. The catch is that the more you love something or someone, the more it can metaphorically kill you — not in a literal sense, but in an emotional one.

Workaholics can't stop working simply because they find fulfillment in what they do. Lovers are more likely to keep nurturing their relationships because what they already share in common took some time to build and might be the remedy for their pain. Volunteers for a cause believe in what they do so much that some can dedicate their lives to adressing and developing their projects.

The only book I ever read by Bukowski was "The People Look Like Flowers At Last." It was in high school after a friend lent it to me. Thank you, I. :) Hence, you are seeing a beautiful sunflower above.

But why do we have to find what we love and let it kill us? At this moment, I suddenly realized that living by this motto means allowing oneself to be amazingly passionate about what they do or feel. They free themselves to do what they want. If you are living the life you wished for yourself and you're figuring out your own way, you're truly living.

What makes you want to achieve your goals? Think. If you're in the war, soldier. If you're in the hospital, doctor. If you're in the school, teacher. If you're in love, lover.

I often question whether I'm just being another human on earth or if I'm truly living. Whenever I feel like I'm not letting my love kill me, it's because I'm straying from what brought me to where I am in life.

As a human (nomadic or not), you have to find your way and let your passions kill you. You've got bloom, dear flower. Although passions can be the antidote, they might cause you some pain. That's okay. You will fall twice, and will raise thrice. LET IT KILL YOU. Otherwise, what would YOU do, DEAR reader?