Loud Silence

In the midst of oblivion, I find myself looking back on how and what life might have been so far for me, for us. And every time I come to the final stage of conclusion, life is but a worthwhile stage play, and like every other stage play, everyone acts as to what their role has been. But unlike any other stage play that has a single or two main characters, everyone that has life is the main character of the play.

Where am I going? Am I taking the right path? – These are just questions that pop up my head during these times. As to where am I going, I am not sure. But still, I continue to travel the journey of life and face each hindrance with my head up. Maybe I guess there is no such thing as “THE RIGHT PATH”, no one walks the same path as anyone else, and that is one thing that’s making us unique from every other. We make our own path. That is the right word to state it. When we stumble upon a large field of grasses, you can never see a path, and that is the very reason why you create your own path in the middle of that field. You clear your own way regardless of where it might lead you, but somehow you have the right feeling that over that great field, something good is waiting for you to take. So don’t hesitate to just walk within those large fields, because you’re creating your path and that is the right one.

I can still hear those loud screams from the city, though I’m not very sure if it’s only in my mind or I do really hear it. Somehow I also miss those noises from the city, being in this solitude makes me think of those things I wanted to remember and write, some those I don’t want to remember. In this deafening silence, I ease my mind and clear my head that I may be able to come up with something great somehow, and those great things are mostly from the past.

Gone are those days when I used to argue over a piece of candy with my sister, which in the end, I get to be scolded by my parents for doing so. I miss that. Not the arguments, but the attention. They used to watch over us so discreetly, that every move we make is for them to know and judged. I miss those now that I am here in this solitude night.

I sit here under the perfectly circled light giver of the night. Reminiscing reminiscing reminiscing. “Those were the days…” I mended myself, and those were the days that molded me to what I am today.