We shouldn’t love drama. We know better…
… but secretly, we don’t care.
It’s emotional crack. A lightning bolt to our nerves that ignites our blood and rushes it… everywhere.
A dangerous, addictive hit that elevates our alive.
Separated from the source, we can see it… clear as day. Everything rational in our brain screams it’s bad for us – that we’re better-off without it. We can’t explain why we keep going. We know there are better alternatives… better ways.
… but re-exposed to drama, that fancy thought’s crushed by sheer sensation of stimulation. By the adrenaline spikes made of mystery, intrigue, uncertainty, struggle and hope that excite and override. FUCK does it feel.
Sure there are better options… but none as exciting. None as captivating.
Even if it’s bad, it’s emotional proof we’re alive. It might be hard, but better alive than just existing.
Of course, we never say it aloud. Not a great look.
Outwardly, we’re
🤔 🙄
… but inwardly,
😏 🙃