11:25

insight twentythree
Sometimes it's the tranquil silent that surrounds you as you sit in wendy house at the bottom of a garden that makes you realise the pure beauty of nature. Listening to the bird that sweep in-n-out the trees and the cars that buzz by with people driving within, people who you do not know. It's not that you've ignored their conversation, or that you've never spent the time to visit their living space, it is the innocent factor of that you have never seen their face, nor seen their piercing smile with the small dimples in their cheeks; they're merely a stranger in your life. And as i sit dimly lit by golden lantern on my right, that sits by a peach drink - just perfect for the spring season - i read my book alone in my own thoughts, dangerous but calm. And a small smile grows on my face as the words on the page relate to a boy i know and love. Even though he does not know i'm thinking of him and doesn't know that all these ideas bring me back to him i still know that in my mind he is him. And so i read aloud the book that i love, the book that i treasure the most because it gives me the words i need to say to others, but never can find the phrases to describe what I think. But yet, there is still a subtle loneliness that stays within me as the lights fades in the sky and the moon rises, it's rocking in my mind, just making me more alert the fact that - i am alone - all on my own sitting in this wendy house. But i'm not alone: i have my book, i have the light, i have my drink, i have the bird that sits on the bird table straight in front of me shaking it's soft feathers while it pecks the seeds upon the surface. The bird is my only friend, but yet isn't, as still i don't speak their language but neither i speak French, german for Spanish, we still can be friends, acquaintances or just enjoying their existence as i wish people would mine. And i'm sure they do out of kindness and being polite. But who do I ask to think of me, to ask to meet me since i have so much free time hung around my shoulders. i have so much time that i'm here talking to my phone, voice to text onto a device that does not ask me if I'm okay. I'm just talking to myself.
And just then my lover texts, making me feel like a kid with excitement, giving me warmth even when i'm sat outside on a late April's evening, making a spark light inside me... making me feel something. And from a daily basis where i feel nothing but emptiness and loneliness, it is the one thing i value in my entire existence.

And as the cold chips into my bones, i pull a blanket over my knees, a warm pink spotty cover that brings me the slightest joy. The warm fabric weaves around my hips, and sends shoots of fire through my veins, defrosting my hands, allowing me to continue reading the soft pastel pages.

The silence is broken by few rowdy adolescents strolling across the pavements shouting and laughing, happy and content. Even though they disturb the still quiet that's surrrounds the wendy house, the birds still continue to sing me a sweet melody which brings me back to the calm I felt before. A distance car door slams and the engine echoes throughout the empty street... quiet rings in an instant. Silence resuming, the people move on to disturb someone else's thoughts with their loud music mumbling through the vehicles windows.

A lass, after the 3 hours that I have sat in a comfy space and stared at the pale pages filled with black lines of thought, i finish my book and stare into the garden again, with nothing else to do. All sorted, all words read, every sentence taken in to my mind. And i am content but emotionless again. i want to read it over and feel all the emotions over, i want to think the thoughts all again because it's altered me and made me say that i can be whoever i want to be, and that i don't need to be this low self all the time and i can be... i can be me... i can just be. I have never felt this way with a book before, and I want to feel it more. And be so filled with so much delight that I can only smile at the pure reality of words on a page, the letters printed into my thoughts, altering my self perception and self worth. Pure happiness that I know that I can be, and I will be, whoever I want to be, and whatever I want to be, whenever I want to be.
 To future self, some thought for you, just be just stop and to think, breathe and tell yourself i can be.

👽