Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Solitude, Heals and Kills

Solitude is my healing time. I tend to be alone to reflect myself, wondering what happened and how days passed. I find it hard to tell what's going on me. I just feel tired to explain and arrange perfectly beautiful words in sentence. Telling myself to keep feelings alone better than talk to others and ended up with misconception.

In every single day, there is time that I don't feel to talk to anybody. I hate ito hear all noisy laugh, meaningless words, harsh jokes. But in silence we could talk. I always wanted to know, and never felt enough to hanging around with myself. I'm getting know and love myself more and more.

Gradient of red to yellow—orange-ish sky and chirping birds.
Open green grass with breeze make dancing trees and leaves.
Reflection at pond and sound of flowing water.
Night strolling at sidewalk under city lights.
 

But that night. 
That night was different. That night I walked in a rush. Uncomfortable with those eyes of people. I hate to listen laughter of kids. I hate to see singing musician. I hate to know those families feel happy. I felt insecure. I felt afraid. Night was chill, cold to my bone. I couldn't feel peace in my solitude. I was getting more and more nervous. 

And so the time goes, I realized. That night is the first time. I'm alone and lonely. That night is the first time. Solitude kills me. That night is the first time. I thought I need someone to accompany. I miss someone who can I really talk to, share everything related, tell exactly what's on my mind. That night is the first time. I admit there's time I cannot be alone. Because I'm still human being. Need someone to talk and rely on.

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