Ignore the world. They don�t exist. The rumbling words of primitive
humans barrage my soft, shattering ears. Ignore them.
Think not of the words they speak to one another. Silence.
If only it were that easy. Merely one word, but with multiple
ways to accomplish it�.to determine what it is. Like �love.�
It has not one, singular meaning, no. How unfortunate for me�
But volumes of meanings that are heard by every different person
who looks at the word, hears the sounds put together, or feels
it in its completion. The only way to know love is to feel it,
or so I say.
The only way to know what silence is, therefore,
is to feel it surround you. It�s cold, silent fingers grasping
you, slipping its freezing extensions into your veins, making your
blood tumble in frozen chunks. When this blood reaches your
polluted heart, you can feel the chunks being melted into slush.
Then go out again, but this time sluggishly, dragging. Willing
you to lay down and take a rest, to sleep like no other sleep, to
dream of dreams that would never have otherwise come to you. And
never wake again. Condemned to live with the shallow characters that
your mind creates while you slowly freeze.
But then, when your last
breath is being taken, a burning beam of love comes from anothers�
heart reaching toward yours, melting the ice that has surrounded
your slowly beating heart. Forcing heat to flow through your veins
instead of the now soothing cold. You no longer wish for silence
and her cold fingers, you want this love with this warming beam.
Recovery is painstakingly hard, but then you shall radiate the
same heat, the heat of love. Feel the flame that is now your
heart, burning through any cloth that tries to hide it, melting
any ice that tries to cool its brilliant blaze. Feel it flowing
through your veins at amazing speed, like a wild fire through a
dry prairie. You can feel the burn, the ache, traveling from
your fingertips to your toes and then your head.
This rush of
heat quickly thaws and quickens you thoughts, the logic of your
mistake. The wish for silence returns. And you quickly smother
the flame and freeze the ashes that remain. Frozen with silence.
With solitude.
When another ray comes, do you block it? Do you
smother and freeze the heart from which it come to make them more
like you? Or do you light up in a flaming memory of love?
Tell me, which is worse.
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