What is it throttling the throat? The silence?
How come cannot we not hear a single bit when everybody screams?
Why is that hollow-hearted smiles?
What is that small talks about?
Cannot simply stream the thoughts. Thoughts are accumulating in a dam where there is a great potential just behind it. They are waiting, colliding with each other, getting frozen, seeing glimpses of spring sun, waiting days and nights to just flow through the waterfall. The power does not let it flow. Cumulated power of the humanity wants them to hold still. Patiently. For the time being.
But, haven't we seen all these cosplays already, brother?
We have seen dear. We have heard the stories, closed our eyes to the unheard, waited the frequency of the receiver to be synchronised. Unless the thoughts swing at the same level of the feelings, there isn't much to do. It simply doesn't fire the wire. It gets dissolved in the energy, no one wants to hear, no one wants to see. They would like to see beautifully scened scenes; gorgeously aligned states so that they can fire what they like.
Then, the scenes aren't their creations? How can they embrace gracefully artificial things?
That's the exact thing kiddy. They'd rather see a moment than a feeling. They'd like to consume instead of touching and understanding. The beauty isn't that far away for the ones who knows how to convert a moment to a –.
They travel kilometers away to observe a happening without feeling the moment which means billion times more than the collection of what they are able to gather. They gather, unite, commute to a community, feel warm without foreseeing the natural period of the life. I mean, why not try to understand the foreigner? Why not receive the stranger with open arms? Why labelling the unfamiliar with smallest words? Because that is the shortest path to regularity. The regularity created by the routines, doctrines they learned. There is not one way to be happy, there is not a working way of getting sad. There is billions to discover. Discover the unheard feelings. Mixture of the sensations. Why bordering yourself with the society's way of doing it?
Why cannot we just sway our borders?
Have you ever get to know the feeling when you are about the throw out? Have you spend one more moment to think about it before doing it? You get afraid, strain your muscles, you try to keep yourself from doing it. You try to postpone it but you stand with it for hours maybe.
It is just like that. When that stomach-ache comes, when you drown with all the feelings and thoughts in your throat, you get afraid of putting them out. You feel like you are extracting your soul underneath your body. Your potential gives you pain to force you drop the liquid of the eyes. Because they suffer brother, they suffer from what they saw and they would like to throw out.
And you feel like in you are in those nights when it gets closer. When all of your life is united waiting for the headman to give the call and you get sleepy, excited. You feel like visiting the restroom. You hide it from your nearest suns that you are frightened. And then that darkness, silence and waiting combines with the potential tense feelings and you feel it in your retina, in your throat.
And then train starts marching. In a early darked evening, you wake up in the middle of the night. You wait for the train. This time with a difference though, you can feel it is coming. You look for a –.
It starts followed by an accelerated heart rate. The cold and misty weather does not help either. It tells you, it is the way it is, it tells you that you have to wait until the train departs. But that feeling though, in the city populated by the number of fingers in two hands you know the time is coming. You make silly jokes, you get ready for the thing though. Because it hasn't even snowed yet there, it hasn't frozen even yet the roads. The paths are not even slippy yet.