Silence...

What do you when you have nothing to say?

You let the silence do the talking. You never know what it says, and you never will. But it talks to you. Through the eternal moments of hearing nothing, comes the outcome. You wake up from the silence with a completely new energy, or a completely new lack thereof. Nobody knows what it dictates until you obey her.

Following whatever instructions the silence gave you, you involuntarily obey, and there you are, not even aware that you’re suddenly erupting with this new energy, but you roll with it. You live in it, and you revel in it, and you light the world around you with it, and everything changes for the better or for the worse, you feel like your exploding, and you’ll never stop exploding, and you keep roaring like some seemingly eternal nuclear furnace…right until the time that the silence comes for you again.

And everything’s suddenly silent again. All is quiet, and there sits silence with you, whispering as always. You try desperately to listen to her, but you cant make out a single sound and you know there’s some invisible part of you that’s listening attentively to her right at that very moment.

You try to repeat what you were doing with that energy before the silence came for you, but all efforts fall flat in your face. It only works when the silence says so. Silence is the boss. Not you. Silence says when you will explode like the sun and shine even brighter, not you.

So there you sit, in the emptiness of silence once again, waiting for her new instructions that no one can hear…



Hmmm…you know? Great material for my latest short story, huh? Ha! Made u look :)
I’m gonna keep writing somewhere else…adios!

Once Upon a Time...

Once upon a time, there was a boy that found himself standing in the middle of a war with huge warriors and skull-decorated brutes that crashed and screamed and hacked away at each other all around him, roaring war cries and dropping by the hundreds to the floor, blood and guts flying everywhere.

The little boy felt overwhelmed. He was so out of place in this battlefield of violent giants. But everyone stayed away from this skinny-looking half-pint kid. This kid had two things in his hand, the one was an enormous sword, it looked like it weighed twice as much as his own weight, but he held it and played naively with it like it weighed nothing. In his other hand he had an indestructible shield. With these two, nothing could get in this scrawny looking kids way. Nothing.

He could mow through both sides of the army as if they weren’t there. He was the worst and most deadly killer of all the dark-eyed behemoths that were battling around him. And they were all terrified of him. They didn’t pay much attention to him because they were busy fighting each other, but in the back of their minds, they saw these huge weapons in this kids hand, and if push came to shove, he could annhialate them with it.

But the kid just walked around in the middle of this battle field, bewildered, and in his own happy little world, playing his own little games, and finding humor in everything.He didn’t even realize that he was carrying around these two unbeatable weapons with him. He just played with them like he took them for granted.He didn’t know that he could fight better than anyone there. He didn’t even fully realize that there was a battle to be fought.

Slowly, the a very few of the warriors around him begin realizing that this kid has these invinvible weapons, and that he doesn’t even fully realize that he has them. Some just patiently try to support him until he realizes it, while others start growing bold in the face of this harmless looking kid that they were previously so threatened by.And they start picking on him. Poking him. Pushing him, trying to slash at him with their swords. And the boy just nonchalantly walks out of the way of some, and laughs gaily at others.

But some of them start getting to him, and the boy gets a little annoyed. But he still doesn’t know he has these weapons that can destroy everything, so he feels incredibly helpless, and irritated. But they just continue pushing him, making him feel more and more like he’s going to lose it…

And the boy starts wondering: If he’s forced to fight these huge bullies that seem so keen on hurting him, then can he really do it? Can he survive? What weapons will he use to fight them?

He starts questioning himself for the first time, growing irrationally inconfident at times, and incredibly empowered at others.

But they keep pushing him.

And the patient boy slowly gets more and more angry…

To be continued?