trashcan ii

act iii

noisy.

everything is so noisy.

everyone is so noisy.

the entire world is made of noise, and so is the universe entire.

i attempt to cover my ears and turn deaf ears towards the rest of these external influences.

the scariest part is that it never stops no matter how many times i try to shut it all out, no matter how long i close my eyes and drift off somewhere i expected to be quiet.

the noise never stops and it bangs on my eardrums, resonating inside my skull and making the very bars of my cage vibrate and ring out in protest. it wishes to eat my patience and tolerance from the very core.

these noisy little creatures love to see me lose myself among the dissonance and mess of notes.

of flats and sharps and tones that are do not posses the harmony of orderly and woven melodies, of music sheets that rain had ruined.
..

i stand in the middle and stare up the sky i now realize had never been clear, let alone blue.

for now, atleast give me white clouds. i'm tired of noisy, black clumps of ice that shriek until the heat of their screams melt themselves.

everything and everyone is so noisy, i can barely be alone.

i can never quite grasp the solitude i realized i wanted all along.

i wonder if death will also be noisy?

if so, i wouldn't know what else to make of myself.

is this my karma?

for getting involved in other people's lives and getting them involved in my own?

is this dissonance and unceremonious dance of notes a result of my past mistakes?

or perhaps it is made of curses from those i've ruined?

someone once told me i was, indeed, like the sun because i burnt everyone in my way.

they didn't know it was also applicable with how fast my blaze ran out.

and now the dark, disorienting clouds are closing in.

this noise lives in me, and i, in it.