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COLD? EMPTY? LONELY?



THE THICKNESS OF THE AIR MAKES KNOWN OF THE DISMAL WEATHER THAT LURKS, WAITING, TO JUMP ON ANY THAT ARE UNSUSPECTING OF AN ATTACK.



SILENCE BREAKS? SOUND EMERGES? SOUNDS- SO FAINT? SO DISTANT?



WHAT ARE THEY? WHAT MAKES THEM? IT IS DARK, EMPTY- NO ONE TO MAKE THE MURMURS SO OFTEN PRESENT. ALL THESE SOUNDS? BEATING DEAD THE LONELY SILENCE?THEY ARE ECHOES? PERHAPS OF KNOWLEDGE BEING TAUGHT, OR MAYBE WISDOM BEING CONVERSED?



NO? FALSE ALARM?



BLAH, BLAH, BLAH? THEY ARE NOT OF INTEREST, NOT OF SUBSTANCE; THEY ARE THE MUFFLED WHISPERS THAT LINGER THE EMPTINESS OF THIS PLACE. THEY SERVE AS MEMOIR OF AN UNYIELDING BOREDOM PLAGUING YET ANOTHER UNWILLING GROUP OF HALF-WITS, EAGER ONLY TO BETTER ROUND THEIR CURVE OF UNDERSTANDING, EAGER ONLY TO ACCLIMATE THEMSELVES WITH THE IGNORANCE PREVENTING KNOWLEDGE FROM ARRIVING.



GONE? SILENCE?



REMINDED? DRAWING ACKNOWLEDGEMENT? AWARE OF THE IN CRAZY FICTION ACCOMPANYING THE MIND? THE INTANGIBLE OF THE SUBCONSCIOUS ILLUSION, SILENCE RETURNS- FOR IT IS UNABLE TO SPEAK ALONE.



THERE ARE NO PROWLERS? NONE THAT ARE AWAKE?



THEY LURK IN THE MINDS OF THOSE ALREADY HEAR, THOSE WHO IN THE DISTANCE BREAK THE SILENCE FORCING IT TO REST IN THIS CORNER, IN MY NOOK. LURKING WITH IN THOSE WHO WAIT FOR THEIR ARRIVAL.



THE STUDY OF THE QUIET IS INTERRUPPTED?



BY THE VISION?S CAPTURE OF THE UNCERTAIN BLANDNESS OF THE YELLOW THAT ENTERS INTO VISION?S FIELD. NO COLOR, NOT EVEN THE YELLOWS OF THE FIELD WILL SNEAK INTO HERE, NOT ANY COLOR, AND NO TRACE OF VIBRANCY OR LIFE, JUST A MEEK BLANDNESS. DIRTY, AND BATTERED, LAY THE RUGS TRACING THE ECHOES, AND SILENCE, AND BLAND BOREDOM. WORN FROM THE INFINITE NUMBER OF VISITORS THAT IS HAS HAD AND MAY HAVE ON ANY GIVEN DAY.



THEY WANDER? THEY ESCAPE?



SCURRYING LIKE FIELD MICE IN THE MEADOW MY EYES TRAVEL FROM ROOM TO ROOM. LOOKING INTO ROOMS, THROUGH WINDOWS, IN DOORWAYS, YET NOTHING IS SEEN. A CEMETERY OF KNOWLEDGE AND THOUGHT; DUST LINING THE BUILDING, THE ASH OF MURDERED AND CREMATED THOUGHTS.



IT BEGS?



LONGING FOR THE COMPANY OF THE NEW AND OLD ALIKE; THE WALLS HOPING FOR THE HEAVY WAIT OF EVER TIRING BODIES AS THE LEAN IN HASTE, THE RUGS AND FLOORBOARDS FOR THE CHANCE TO MEASURE THE POWER OF A HEAVY FOOT, OR THE DEPTH TO WHICH A MIND?S TROUBLES WILL DRAG ITS ENDLESS THOUGHTS ALONG THE GROUND.



THEIR WISH WILL BE GRANTED?



IT ALWAYS IS, A REDUNDANT CYCLE OF WAITING, SILENCE, AND ANIMOSITY. AND THIS DAY TOO WILL END, LIGHTING THE FIRE THAT KINDLES WITH ALL WISHES OF THIS INNER WORLD, BOTH THE UNSEEN AND SEEN ALIKE.



CONTINUING A CYCLE-

FORBIDDEN FROM EVER REACHING THAT WHICH IT SEEKS;

THAT WHICH IS THOUGHT TO BE AT PEACE & SERENE;

THAT WHICH IS KNOWN TO BE SOLID & TRANQUIL;

THE PART OF THEM GRANTING TRANQUILLITY-

THE CENTER?