Based in New york, zachary franck is a writer with a focus in music, the human condition, and the detailed realism of life itself. he is the founder and owner of
the passion collective.

Prescribing Life Lessons; The Sweeping Realization of Wasted Talent (Days Like Today)

Days like today remind me to refuse to let our spiraling society get me down. For me, it is not an easy task but an essential one at that. On this fine mid-April afternoon in Denver, mother nature reminds me to show gratitude toward this complicated life that most of us live. The sunshine warms the surface of the sidewalk with ease as my friends relax outside on the deck. Today is magnificent. An early Spring breeze glides through the air like a bluebird making its way to the nest. It's not difficult to romanticize with a Tuesday that convinces the masses that Spring has finally arrived. Every human slows their thoughts down a notch on days like today. Pale frowns slowly turn to tan smiles, bare treetops become full with leaves once again. Shadows stretch across the pavement like the solid yellow lines that lay parallel in the center of the street. Does everybody sees days like today like I do? I sometimes wonder - I presume that some do and some don't.

I sit behind this typewriter as if its the steering wheel of my vehicle, my transportation through this divided world that we live in. I may be twenty-two but my imagination breathes heavy with the youth of a child. There is no limit, there can't be. A limit to imagination is a limit to happiness. A limit to blue skies that rest above mountain peaks and ocean breezes that dance over beaches of golden sand. A warm cup of coffee on a cool morning in September, a cool beer on a warm day in August. It is these simple things in life that we deserve. We deserve to gaze upon sunsets that slowly float int the Hudson River. We owe it to ourselves to breathe fresh Rocky Mountain air. Moderation of these things is boring and can even be cowardly. Have some fucking fun and don't buy into the blatant mediocracy that they sell on your television screen.

If you're passionate about packing boxes or washing dishes than so be it, i'm just telling you to follow your dreams outside of dusty warehouses and steaming kitchens. I've done mindless work and I will not do it for the rest of my life, I cannot do it. What i'm trying to say is that I have no choice but to be a writer. This isn't some phase, this isn't me trying to be something i'm not. This is me. Words float through my mind on a daily basis as i'm pulled to the keyboard by some universal force that is much greater than myself. To some, this may sound like a fairytale - equivalent to unicorns or mermaids. Trust me, I understand that people that think money means success probably think this is fucking insane. To others though, the ones who feel that jolt down their when they listen to a certain song or cry tears of pure humanity when they watch a scene in a specific film; They know what it is that i'm talking about. They can feel it. These people cannot be forced into boxes easily, many are able to escape the mental slavery with extreme effort, these are the blessed ones. Others fight for as long as they possibly can before shoved into a state of forced normalcy. Another name tossed into the folder of 'Wasted Talent' - these people know that it's true, they'll be the first to admit it. Over time, they begin to come to terms with the fact that they have lost the battle. They feel as though they have no chance so they raise their white flag with grimacing expression outstretched across their face. I've seen the damage first-hand, it's violent with emotional grief.. and on a warm night in the midst of early June, they can sometimes feel it once more, that buzzing energy of passion and creativity. When the moon reflects off the waters' surface just right and the peepers echo across the vast valley of wavy meadows and rolling hills, they are somber with the rawest feeling known to man; Regret. They sip their scotch on the rocks and take a long drag off of their Marlboro as they sit and watch their youth fade into the distance like the last goodbye of a relationship they thought would last forever. The sweeping realization of wasted talent has the ability to knock the strongest man off his feet and make the wisest of souls grow weary. So as I stand on the very edge of my future and my past, I make a promise to myself that will last a lifetime. I will never take this gift for granted and realize that opportunities that aren't seized will burrow themselves into my heart and mind forever.

Prescribing Life Lessons; Simplicity Isn't Always Simple When It Comes To My Shipwrecks In Life & The Lighthouse Of My Dreams

The Mighty Metropolis: A Sunset Stroll Over The Bridge

The Mighty Metropolis: A Sunset Stroll Over The Bridge