The silent part

(January 09)

Time passes when you’re not looking at it.

Till one morning you’re struck by the truth! The truth, the only thing that really defines you! The one thing that’s been long buried in the absence of your acknowledgement of self.

We’re running around. Running around all stressed out doing stuff. And talking stuff. There’s all this doing, this talking, this loud talking, the strident laughter that is only meant to hide away the silent parts. The silent parts within. While paying no attention, time slips away, the silence within deepens and the noise outside increases. Instead of catching every second like a falling star you clutter all your feelings and thoughts deep within. There’s this random puzzle within, waiting to be solved and never getting the chance to. On the outside, the loud voices keep up the play.

I remember my time in the hotel in India. Every morning, there was the emerging on the scene. I was in the back, getting ready for ten minutes. I was then leaving the lockers, passing through the hallway in between the linen and the offices. Going up one narrow flight of stairs, passing through the main kitchen, all clanking and clinking of pots and pans. Finally another narrow hall where one needed to listen carefully before turning the corner so not to get hit by someone coming at full speed the other way. And so, five minutes later, there I was: stage on! The huge marble corridors, the soft music, the loud laughter. The outside was high volume and the inside was mute. There was less of me and more of my role. I was cast in my part and doing my best at playing it. Six months later I felt like having split personality: the glamorous laughing character and the silent me on the inside. It was the first time I truly felt the passing of time and the crime I’m committing. The crime of being without being me…

I’ve sworn I’d never do it again. I did. I’ve sworn that every time the laughter will get too loud and the silence too deep I will stop. And listen. And look at my every second that goes by…

I’ve failed myself once more… I’ve failed myself into talking and running and talking some more…

I’ve lost myself in the silent part and the even passing of time. I looked in the mirror and wondered where I was left the last time I checked. Like trying to find the page on a book left by the bed, no markings and too much time passed since the last read. There’s so much clutter… so many facts and too little truths. So much acting and too little backstage. Too much backstage on the scene and too much scene in the backstage… Too much scene. The script. The part. The role. The right things. So many right things and too little truths.

Truths… that I’ve actually known for so long that I started doubting them…