July 2016

Michael said he wrote this sitting in his room silently for an hour analyzing the environment he was in:

The sound of silence.

It’s a force that implodes on its own.

You feel your own weight in the empty room you sit alone in.

When you don’t breathe, you can hear a mute static ringing in your ears like a television that was left on.

Your eyes began to wander around the space you barricaded yourself in and you slowly began focusing your vision on, say a picture frame you have displayed on your wall.

You feel a connection that wasn’t there before. Almost like the frame is a living entity on its own. No matter how still it stands, it looks back at you since that is its whole purpose for existing. It exists to tell you something you never heard before.

It corresponds with your action of sitting still and quietly in the room.

Existing.

You soon began to realize there’s more than being a wall. That and a power much greater than anything in the world. The power to be. I don’t know what it means to be an entity with a beating heart., with emotions, with thoughts, sheltered inside a shield of flesh. But there’s something else I can be doing other than sitting alone in a room.

I can breathe, I can move my limbs, I can decide whether to keep sitting alone or stand up and go outside. I can experience my life in a different picture frame of time. Yesterday was a different story and tomorrow will be a new story and tonight will be the same as yesterday, and tomorrow holds no surprises.

I existed in this time frame.

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