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Chatter.

The prime element of all modernized spaces. No matter where you go, here in the West, there's always chatter. Noisy, mindless static. I can't stand it.

The bench I sit on holds me with a slight creak, due to the weathering of countless rains and winds. The pavement under my feet is flecked with little divots, once air bubbles. I look up, and stare at the grass. It sways gently in the mid-September breeze. The green blades, importantly poised, only bend as someone more powerful than them beckons. The wind itself whispers through the very atmosphere, evoking a sense of listfulness in my soul.

All this, and nobody but me can notice it.

As I tune back in, the chatter begins to preside again. Near infinite crowds speak meaningless words to a chorus of deaf ears.

"Oh, I know I like him, but what can I do? It's not like that!"

"Listen, I'm running late. I'll be home in five minutes."

"Can you buy me some milk on the way home? We don't have any, and I want cereal tomorrow."

"It's just a matter of whether or not you can do it."

I sigh, leaning back. All the useless noise funnels me into a space smaller than I can stand. I can't move, stifled by the oppressive noise. It's a soberingly restrictive feeling.

I get up, listening to each step of my foot on man-made stone. As I walk down the path, a crowd of men passes by me, all making more infernal noise.

I take no heed, instead moving up a flight of stairs to the street, where even more noise awaits. Cars streaming by, birds squalling, and still more people. I grimace. It's all vile. Cancerous, it constrains the very nature of life.

I breathe, filling my lungs with tainted air, and exhale, leaving a foul taste in my mouth. As my breathing continues, I empty myself. The noise fades until I am once again one with the silence.

[+HOLLOW//MIND]

It's freeing, like loosing shackles you once welded on yourself. I can't describe the floating feeling, like your mind is expanding in all directions at once, that you are simultaneously falling forwards and leaning backwards, like all direction ceases to exist for a moment. Your heart beats, no longer pulsing in your ears, but the space around you, fluxuating the currents surrounding you as you float. Your limbs feel like they are in all places at once, and they twist and tumble without moving an inch.

I sigh happily. This is freedom.

Freedom in silence.

I step down the path, my hair blowing in the speechless wind, the muted mouths of passerby moving to no avail. Cars pass me by with nary a whisper. My steps are known by force alone. Noise is not present here.

The walk to my door is slow, but I reach it in no time, simply, blissfully. Pushing it open with my palm, I float into my home. Each row of gravel perfectly raked into an ever-increasingly complex pattern, each plant pruned to present peace, each koi swimming in its place quietly.

I take my traditional seat on the lone rock in the middle, and as I do, the environment swirls around me, welcoming me back to my resting place.

As I fall into slumber, I wonder. When will humanity let me out? When will they fall silent?

I close my eyes. I am content to wait,

For I wait in silence,

Eternally.

FIN

Inspired by: 2127- Eminence