There’s so much noise everywhere, and I become a frightened little animal with no idea where to turn. Many shout, and no one listens. They think they know so much that—for a moment—they seem intelligent. They gulp down the big words and then spit them back out, spewing them with bile. They disgust me. They shout loudly, they make noise. There’s not an ounce of doubt in their words. They scare me. They stand with a team, not with people. I’d say they have no idea what love is.
For them, it’s about numbers, applause, podiums, power. They only look up, forgetting that their team, their family, and their home are beside them. They don’t know how to live without enemies. They believe lies wholeheartedly because they want to be right. They try to destroy what’s familiar because there’s no place for them on the gentle side. They only know how to live in rage, in a world where each one fends only for themselves. There’s not a shred of empathy within them. They’re rotten. And alone.
I write this because I need to unblock myself, to break free, to escape these quicksands that trap you when everyone else is too restless. If everyone speaks over each other, who listens? Who understands? Who finds the solution? Noise is a terrible thing that ruins everything: a conversation, a sunset, a museum, a dream.
If you play their game, you lose everything else.
I write this because I want to leave behind what I don’t understand, because I want to stop and silence it all. To breathe. Not to give more space to dark hearts. They have enough with their own.
And I live in sweetness.
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