《The Silence in the Crowd》Chapter Three
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I reached the part of the road where it's actually peaceful, with the trees and huge and quiet houses. It almost felt serene at the moment while a Hozier song played. I started to imagine myself being on a music video and all that corny ideas. The song was called Shrike and it was so beautiful and so calming. It has this sound of some folk-like tune that offers some calming vibes, and the singer's voice was deep and very manly and so pure. I cannot describe what is the song is really all about because this man, Hozier, is a great poet, he writes words that are out of my vocabulary and he always he amazes me with the lyrics and compositions of his songs.
The only thing is, this man is a little bit underrated which makes me so upset. He's a great writer, his voice is very rare and pure, and his works are very meaningful yet, people still choose to listen with some songs about- I don't know, trash? Yeah, trash. That is also the problem in our reality. It makes me puke when some people are known to be assholes and phonies, but look at them, they are much more appreciated than those who deserve it. It's very unfortunate to realize that, those who deserve recognition are the most humble and the quietest ones, and the people who have the guts to lift themselves are boastful and cocky and... What I'm saying is, why are we like that? We chose to focus our attention on the people who know nothing but to show-off while we just nod to those people that actually have something 'real' to offer. Why can't we appreciate things fairly?
Oh boy, am I being weird again. Thoughts, opinions, rants, all the bullshit inside my head are nothing but unnecessary and bashful comments that will never be heard by anyone else but me. Another weird thing about me is, I talk to myself... a lot. I'm just lucky that no one has ever seen me do it because, damn, I might look like a psycho when I do that- and I sometimes realize it even though I'm alone. I'll talk to myself, create some scenarios inside my head and then realize how insane I look whenever I do that. But, I know that I'm not the only one who does talk to themselves. They say it's a way of somehow, increasing your self-confidence and all that psychological crap.
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When I reached the Cathedral in Binakayan, I felt really fucking tired. Literally fucking tired, like I could collapse. The heat in the back of my neck was burning my skin like a steak on a grill. My sweat, goddamn it, my sweat was all over my body like I just dipped myself in a pool, and I was thirsty, so, so thirsty. Once again, I took a sip from my drink and shook my head. 'I'm halfway there.' I told myself. When I passed by the Cathedral, I did the 'Sign of the Cross' to show respect to our Creator. It's funny though before I went out of our house, I was thinking of, you know, remove all the faith that is left in me, yet here I am, asking Our Lord to give me strength because I thought that if ever a heat stroke kills me in this walk-trip, it's fine, it's absolutely fine but, now, I am afraid that my head will just explode because of all of the heat gathered inside of it and from that, I'll die.
Luckily, I was still alive for walking under the blazing sun for about one hour and forty-minutes, enduring the pain that I feel in my knees and ankles, the heaviness of my skull in this heat, the thirst, and all that suffering. I thought about quitting, you know? But fuck, God really knows how to give His children some motivation. I had mine when I encounter an old man, a laborer. That man sells a 'taho' and he carries these two gallons of soft and wet tofu, one on each side of a thick bamboo that hangs on his shoulders. Imagine that, I fucking complain about this stupid thing that I wanted to do because, the weather is hot and I worry about me, reaching my destination, while this old man carries two gallons that worth the money that his family needed for everyday living. He doesn't even have a destination, he'll walk and walk and walk until what he sold every drop of that taho. I suffer because I wanted to, while that man suffers because he needed to. That shit really hit me hard in the core.
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I MISS YOU ~ c. sturniolo
[ ✏️ ]𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇he dies and she writespoems to keep her mind at ease.𝐎𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇she learns to acceptwhat has happened.●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘chris sturniolo x fem!oc a short story of poemlowercase intended© { sidesturniolo 26/09/22 }[ ✏️ ]
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