It took me way too long to realize that 'doing what I love' wasn't supposed to feel like slowly bleeding out. I used to think passion meant being willing to suffer for it, and now I think that was just internalized capitalism in a cute disguise. The real trick is finding the thing you love that ALSO loves you back, in a sustainable way. It's less dramatic, but I can actually, you know, pay my rent now. I burned so bright that I almost disappeared. Now, I aim for the steady glow of a pilot light – enough to keep the house warm, with plenty of fuel left for tomorrow. The applause was nice, but the quiet satisfaction of a job well done, and then actually resting? That's the real reward.