You’re Too Young…

You’re Too Young…
“Chin up,” they tell me, “Don’t look so sad. You’re too young to look so empty.”
And I wish I could explain how inside I feel like the ocean, sometimes full of roiling energy and sometimes glassy stillness. Or maybe inside of me, there is a galaxy and sometimes there are only black holes and the deaths of stars, and other times, there is peace and the music of the spheres and simple light. It’s not emptiness but different phases of existing.
“Speak! Say something!”
I don’t know what to say.
“Come on, you’re too young to be so reserved. You should be full of excitement; the world awaits you! Look at all this potential you have.”
I hold so much potential, I know. It’s just sometimes better to be more reserved because I can finally hear myself think and I can reflect upon everything that happens, that will happen. There is too much value on excessive noise today in this society and I crave silence. (I’m still constructing my beliefs and opinions.)
Under my skin, thoughts hum.
“Oh, join us! You’re too young to look so lonely. You’ll find that special someone one day!”
I don’t think I’m worrying about that right now. I wouldn’t even have the time to do so: my life is currently too busy for things like that. I am lonely, but not in a bad way. More like contemplative loneliness. Sometimes you just need to be alone and recharge before you can be yourself again.
It all goes back to being solitary in the silence, and it is all too difficult to explain. I cannot capture something so vast, so layered in just spoken words.
So I’ll keep quiet, I’ll keep quiet.
This was inspired by those soft moments of contemplation, those lulls of silence in between bursts of activity and some of my thoughts on how much importance society puts on being an extrovert and being outgoing.


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