Roads of Choice

In these days of nothing, should one be worried because of doing nothing? Some said one should when the others told not. In the midst of silence, blindness, and void, one should travel again, back and forth exhausting one’s mind and muscles, ignoring pain, and endured every hardship along the way.

There were blank papers in front, a glass of coffee (yes, you read me, a glass is not a cup) next to the chair, a new pair of speakers plugged in, some songs in Russian because English just bothering and understandable, and long hours of wild-messed mind walking. Several images of how people were walking on this very earth didn’t soothe the hardened soul and voice of loved ones were causing noise.

Right before sunrise, one rode aimlessly. The ride was old and shaky. The fact that lamp didn’t light the road sufficiently let one sharpen the broken eyesight. Endless training was a daily routine while one was waiting judgment.

The dawn was the only moment one waited everyday at which one looked up to the sky above and nothing came to mind. Mind rested and eyes closed. Souls were refreshed in blue baths as one would say and later walked again while still bleeding heavily.


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