A soft gush of wind, the breeze grazing against the coloured chimes, filling the night with its tinkling music. The sound of a distant mobile echoing through the concrete blocks, reverberating and finding its way to the ears like an archer’s arrow it seeks. And then comes a bark from a dog. What so annoyed poor Milo I wonder, judging from its bark it cannot be a Golden Retriever, perhaps a Jack Russell. Crickets orchestrating their voices singing hymns in the darkness. The sound of tiles too, made of acrylic or some plastic material permeating through the walls along with the laughter of Chinese ladies having a late night game session with their so very dear mates. Where did silence go to? Why are there noises even in the silence? Isn’t the paradoxical life itself set to challenge a man’s senses? Why doesn’t the silence offer any salvation? Wasn’t the nights supposed to bring about the serenity that he so desires.
Hypocritical society it seems, with the occupants pretending to adhere to societal mores and the customs their parents inculcated since young. Just as the silence vanishes with the rising of the moon, so do these values and morals of community for they are nothing but a facade to the guests who share a sharp eye for judgments. Quick, painful and tormenting judgements. Judgements made without rhyme, reason or remorse. Weren’t they supposed to have learned to not be so quick to judge? Why judge, and change everything?
---“It seems that the man who had the gift of the gap stood a better chance in helping Rome to it’s victory? Or wasn’t it the case that the men who so very well got their hands and cheeks dirty with blood on their bodies, smeared like a second skin akin to their flesh should deserve the credit instead? That was what my mind was telling me. But it seems like the vessels we so commonly quipped as being ‘empty’ now hold more weight to the victory at the end of the war. It is a wonder how some pass off, with mere words, as saints when the devil himself would’ve felt envious of their penchant for promiscuity. It is a wonder how they can twist, turn, manipulate, hell even write a new story based upon facts or fiction without allowing the audience receiving such information the liberty of being able to think and analyse the words said. Somehow then, these words spoken will be transfixed into the subconscious mind of the listener bypassing the analytical part of their brains. Before you know it, they are bought and made to believe that the untrue, is true. So then the speakers got away with the accolade whilst the soldiers walk into the city cut, bruised, burnt and battered without a single applaud. The common man was cheated and made to believe that the raconteur was the saviour whilst the soldiers were proponents of war and all that is bad.”---
What use is there for one sit and gullibly speculate the life of another man? What use is there when he or she fail to understand the complex life of the ones that they judge? If all that you see is true, then hope is a lie, for that is one that is neither tangible nor visible. Love will also be a lie, it is simply but an emotion. Why has one to be so quick to judge I’ll never know, without remorse they paint their own work of art over another man’s masterpiece. Haven’t they understood that fighting one battle is nothing, but when they hit him with battles successive and concurrent, it could very well drain him of his breath? The wonder it is for he isn’t an insouciant soul any longer but instead a shy kind to louche remarks by quidnuncs and their kind. Perhaps their ‘productive’ days can use a little less judgemental badinage.
Well, it seems then that never is enough to shut such up. For passing snide remarks and judgemental bile are parts of their activities. And no matter how much one can maintain decency in any given situation, it still seems that there is a loophole where there is as long exists a situation per-say. Let us choose an option then now, that let us not even allow such a situation to arise. After all, finding the solution to any problem starts at finding the root of it. Since now the root has been sought and found, let us rip it off, so that it never grows again. This shall be, even if it shall cause another simple smile from his face. Let them, hopefully, walk in silence and let him think in peace instead of creating a parallel universe in which he becomes the villain. Let him think....let him....and let the price be the smile...in return...for some simple moments of silence.
Hypocritical society it seems, with the occupants pretending to adhere to societal mores and the customs their parents inculcated since young. Just as the silence vanishes with the rising of the moon, so do these values and morals of community for they are nothing but a facade to the guests who share a sharp eye for judgments. Quick, painful and tormenting judgements. Judgements made without rhyme, reason or remorse. Weren’t they supposed to have learned to not be so quick to judge? Why judge, and change everything?
---“It seems that the man who had the gift of the gap stood a better chance in helping Rome to it’s victory? Or wasn’t it the case that the men who so very well got their hands and cheeks dirty with blood on their bodies, smeared like a second skin akin to their flesh should deserve the credit instead? That was what my mind was telling me. But it seems like the vessels we so commonly quipped as being ‘empty’ now hold more weight to the victory at the end of the war. It is a wonder how some pass off, with mere words, as saints when the devil himself would’ve felt envious of their penchant for promiscuity. It is a wonder how they can twist, turn, manipulate, hell even write a new story based upon facts or fiction without allowing the audience receiving such information the liberty of being able to think and analyse the words said. Somehow then, these words spoken will be transfixed into the subconscious mind of the listener bypassing the analytical part of their brains. Before you know it, they are bought and made to believe that the untrue, is true. So then the speakers got away with the accolade whilst the soldiers walk into the city cut, bruised, burnt and battered without a single applaud. The common man was cheated and made to believe that the raconteur was the saviour whilst the soldiers were proponents of war and all that is bad.”---
What use is there for one sit and gullibly speculate the life of another man? What use is there when he or she fail to understand the complex life of the ones that they judge? If all that you see is true, then hope is a lie, for that is one that is neither tangible nor visible. Love will also be a lie, it is simply but an emotion. Why has one to be so quick to judge I’ll never know, without remorse they paint their own work of art over another man’s masterpiece. Haven’t they understood that fighting one battle is nothing, but when they hit him with battles successive and concurrent, it could very well drain him of his breath? The wonder it is for he isn’t an insouciant soul any longer but instead a shy kind to louche remarks by quidnuncs and their kind. Perhaps their ‘productive’ days can use a little less judgemental badinage.
Well, it seems then that never is enough to shut such up. For passing snide remarks and judgemental bile are parts of their activities. And no matter how much one can maintain decency in any given situation, it still seems that there is a loophole where there is as long exists a situation per-say. Let us choose an option then now, that let us not even allow such a situation to arise. After all, finding the solution to any problem starts at finding the root of it. Since now the root has been sought and found, let us rip it off, so that it never grows again. This shall be, even if it shall cause another simple smile from his face. Let them, hopefully, walk in silence and let him think in peace instead of creating a parallel universe in which he becomes the villain. Let him think....let him....and let the price be the smile...in return...for some simple moments of silence.
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