A Thousand and one stories #26 Monologue

1001 stories

What’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard apart from the sound of your own voice echoing beyond measures stuck in the walls of your head?
I’ve heard something louder than it. And it just goes on and on, never ending but less maddening, more… peaceful and more lifelike.
Have you heard the sound silence makes?

The pause before the beginning of another sentence. A lost conversation. Being together with a person but alone. That silence. It’s beautiful. It’s loud. It’s overwhelming.
When someone says they don’t like awkward silences, I go and tell them, it’s only awkward because you don’t feel the peace it brings.
That…was.. exactly the thing you SHOULDN’T say to a person who works in a morgue.
Silence is creepy, Gemma.
To you, perhaps. But ask a person working in a steel factory, how relieving it can be.
To each their own.
What about you though? How come you like silences so much?
Because I have felt the buzzing in my head for far too long. I’ve been deafened by the sound of my own voice. I have forgotten what it’s like to live without constant music, chattering, thoughts. Words or noises. Something to always fill the gaping holes of silence. While what I should’ve been doing was sit back…and breathe
What happened?
I think I stopped breathing back there. Let’s start again
What’s the prettiest thing you’ve ever looked at beside the early morning sun as it rises to show that the world deserves light and beauty, seeing the tree leaves light up as if they’ve been set on fire and the morning dew show colours of the rainbow?
I’ve seen the clouds gather in the shape of an eagle and the sun setting like an hourglass filled with lava instead of sand and when it finally stops setting, you can see the hues beneath the clouds as if a ghost in an orange veil. I’ve seen the darkness overcome the world and the lights lighting up, just to show. The dark is beautiful too, with holes in it.
When someone says they think sunsets and sunrises are hyped I tell them they’ve never looked at it through someone else’s eyes. Imagine a blind person looking at the sun for the first time. Imagine a kid seeing an orange disco ball in the sky.
That’s not the kind of thing you say to a person with sensitive eyes, Gemma. You know I can barely look at the tube light, much less the sun.
Yeah, but ask a man stuck in a dark cell forever. Even he’d have trouble opening his eyes to the vast magnificence of the sun. But he would anyway.
Things you do…anyway show what means the most to you.
What about you though? How come you love the sun so much?
Oh, I’ve always been a night person, the starry skies, the moon and I too much in love for me to ever wake up in time for sunrise. And staring at my laptop screen made me forget what evening sky looked like. My room was the only home I knew. With the clouds just a word on my screen and the sun, something you avoided in summers.
While I should’ve let it soak into my skin and see…see
What happened?
Huh. I think I blanked out there for a minute. Let’s start again.
What’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted beside the taste of your own laughter as it gets stuck in your throat and you try not to choke on it but there’s just so much of it? It is too much, too big, too hard and you can’t let all of it out so, though you try, more than half of it stays with you while the rest goes out into the world in the messiest way possible?
I have tasted sadness so deep, it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue and throat, so cold that it burns in your chest and stomach and you can’t shit it out, no matter how much you try.
When someone says..sadness isn’t something you enjoy. I remember how alcohol feels going down your throat. The same cold burning sensation and lightheadedness that sadness leaves behind and you might not enjoy the taste but a true food junkie realises that it takes time to develop the taste for certain refined foods. And with time you notice the subtleties of even the food you thought tasteless before
That’s not something you say to someone who has lost someone, Gemma.
Oh but, ask that unrequited lover looking at the laughing face of his beloved. There’s this pleasure in sadness that happiness just can’t compete with.
Depends on how big a masochist you are, I suppose.
What about you though? How come you love sadness so much?
Well, I’ve spent way too long burying everything in like a seed in the damp soil. It took its time and it grew like a weed but the sadness made me realise there was a blossom beneath all that weed too. Moreover, you can always smoke the weed if nothing pans out. She laughs and laughs..and..
What happened?
I think I choked there for a bit.
Let’s..stop right here.
But hey, you haven’t told me about what’s the best thing you’ve ever felt besides…this right here, looking at the stars in your eyes as you talk about everything in such a passionate voice like you’ve solved the mysteries of the universe?
Me, well I’ve felt your skin beneath mine on lonely nights and felt your voice echo from across the bathroom as you shower. And I’ve felt the truth, as I see it when you smile.
When someone says, Gemma is a hard person to be with I wonder what’s so hard about it, listening to things but hardly understanding most of it, well the look on your face mostly makes up for it.
That’s not something you say to a person who’s never been in love, Jamie.
Oh but, ask the person staring at me right now barely holding back her tears, how good it is to feel love…in its truest sense.
What about you though? How come you love love so much?
Well, I’ve spent too long making friends, running away from feelings that could turn into something bigger, never realising that it just took away my chance at something beautiful. Until I couldn’t..I couldn’t feel.. anything.. just.. feel
What happened?
I think I went numb just there.
Let’s just..go back home. 🙂

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