Be Alive Like No One Is Watching

I finally have some peace. It was not the way I would have chosen for it to come about. In fact, I did try for a better way to communicate my preferred way of obtaining such. Albeit, my peace was not managed without the initial struggle — conflict.

The conflict tended to happen when my voice was being ignored. For example, these words are meaningless. They are not real. They sit like a headstone waiting for some passerby who may or may not say, Oh look! Someone died.

And that’s if there is some prudence in the reader to understand the ground on which he walks holds beneath it more than that which is dead. It holds a once-upon-a-time-ago “someone”. Nevertheless, the voice can be perceived as just the same as these words. Only, instead of waiting passively for a passerby, it makes noise in an earnest attempt at conveying how the speaker remains very much alive. Sure, it can be argued that the written word attempts to demonstrate life or even that of a life behind the words. It may even SHOUT using all caps or excess exclamation marks. Words can live forever. Words can even kill a spirit. Yet, the spirit behind the words may or may not remain.

But does this suggest that volume is meaning? That an increase in decibels means an increase in life, thereby an increased level of reality? Is a higher volume more dominant than silence? The point is to answer the questions. Validate a life. In conversation, there can be two voices, each eager for validation. A good banter may mean each conversant is validating the other. A struggling conversation may be that one desires to validate the other, but this would be contrary to the existence of the audience. The audience speaks up becoming the speaker and the speaker may hear; then, the speaker is promptly dismissed as a speaker as though dead. The audience is passive then dominates as a speaker. Eventually, two speakers render the conversation dead. Conversely, the volume heats up and the decibels pierce like the siren of an ambulance because the audience refuses to leave but speak. There is life and it’s a zombie apocalypse!

But I digress. The peace, my peace, has come about because I have finally been heard. It took breaking the sound barrier and happened only in the written word. This showed that the life behind the words was reduced to some force. Sadly, this life had to resort to accepting not acceptance. A resignation, a surrender. My peace comes about because I am dead. And I shall neither rise to the consideration of dead being present tense nor shall I stoop so low as to say dead should be past tense (which could suggest life). Death will be future tense.



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