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| Count: how often do we got occupied, preoccupied, or just plain a loner..... |
You walked on the streets, where you realized that nobody's on your left or right.
Strutting yourself on, you carried on the suddenly heavy footsteps with loneliness in mind.
Gazing elsewhere, you noticed that you're feeling more happy with the absence of people.
As their excuses seems putrid, glances seems rigid, exchanges seems artificial.
Counting every stones on the pavement, like each one signifies an action occurred in your life.
Happiness, sorrow, misery, loneliness, all made up the stones shape whether it's big or small.
You noticed that you'll smile genuinely where nobody's present, without human complications in mind.
You prefer to listen to sad melodies like it's a rotor jumpstart to your soul, rather than contemporary pop that seems like the popular genre of the bunch.
Might be time to lose touch with humanity, just let it go & walk away.
As single means motionless, double seems like being cornered, triple means confrontations ahead.
Among hundreds of thousands of people that you knew in your life, how many of it really means in your life?
That you would remember as a good memory to be reminded over, rather than a bad memory that should be kept hidden.
How many people actually make up courtesy in your life, remembered you in actions that they would perform beforehand.
Or the multiplication of the courtesy you poured for people is obnoxious, that people seems to take you for granted.
Strands of memory being kept aside, you decided that reclusion is the better option.
Rather than being continuously scarred by human relation, you choose to hide from the community.
Or shed shell like a terrapin, retracting whilst not needed, contracting should desired.
Life's a hunch you'll say, as you're motivated to accomplish anything on your own.
The strive to succeed might be better than those hanging out in bunches, or so it seems.
Be it living in low profile, but doing better than those who stood out in crowd.
So you decide, alone is the answer to everything.
One day perhaps, your voice would be heard by another soul.
Who would also be a loner, however they are your loner.
There when both of you become hoodlums of each other; it's solitude.
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| How often did we have time to look back on our lives, remembering moments meaningful or otherwise? |
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| Take some time, sit in the darkness of night. Look into the gleaming skies, empty as our soul is. Empty the mind, reconcile every mess up thoughts popping into it. Then we'll be able to think properly. |
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