MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “thoughts”

Box of Memories

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Three words. Four sides. A lifetime. A box, however big or small, is used to store things you don’t want to throw away, yet don’t want them in plain sight. The box we most cherish is the one that holds our memories. Some keep it inside their head. In that special place with all the thoughts they love to bring to mind. Others have a physical container filled with memorabilia from times that were too special for them to ever forget.

Each memory box is unique for every person who has one. Because not everyone has the same perception of the things that matter. Some people are overly sensitive, saving theatre tickets, beer caps, hand-written notes, printed photos, even dried-up flowers. They are things that encase more than a simple memory; a feeling that is worth remembering. Because it was at that time when they felt serene, loved and happy. When they believed that ‘forever’ is more than just wishful thinking but rather a word that could gain the meaning they want if they try hard enough.

Others have boxes with fewer things: books, music, photo frames, souvenirs, even clothes. More practical entities of what a memory entails.

But all have something in common: the memories we create are the feelings that make us stronger, more optimistic and resilient. They are proof that happiness does exist and will last as long as you are willing to nourish it.

No matter how many boxes of memories we create, we must all believe in the beauty of a happy ending. And the fact that we each deserve one.

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The bleeding of a pen

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People who write share a secret. They know how to view the world in different lenses. They think too much, overanalyse, create scenarios that may hardly correspond to reality, and feel too deeply. They have a vivid and often wild imagination. But often, that is exactly what helps them survive.

The best part about meeting other authors, is that you realise you are not alone in your weirdness. Authors are exquisite people. They shine a light on aspects you never thought of before someone pointed them out to you.

They are the ones who put words on a page, coherent ones, linked together and invite you to form the images in your head. Every book is just that. But every reader has a different playout created in their mind. And that is precisely the magic a pen can fashion.

Writers are not as competitive as people of other professions are. They will urge you to write. They will inspire you. To believe that you can do it; that you can accomplish whatever you imagine. Because they know what it feels like to sit alone in front of a screen, fighting with and for words. They have gone through the anguish of trying to promote their work for the masterpiece they believe it is. They have faced their demons of fear, of not being good enough. And they understand. They know that you need to write something first to come to believe that you can actually achieve your goals.

The best thing about meeting a writer is that you gain an insight on why and how they write. Sometimes the reason is the simple fact that they were bored and wrote a book. Other times it is because they wanted to say something. They want to make readers think, to enter a world that is unknown; to escape a reality that is sometimes better than we imagine if only we see it in a positive light. But every writer wants something they never admit: to make the reader feel they are not alone.

A book is the best company you can have. Because it opens up worlds you never knew existed and expands your mind more than anything else ever can.

White Ideal

©MCD

You don’t need to call him. He comes on his own when he sees you.

You don’t need to tell him. He feels you in your silence.

You don’t need to ask him for attention. He provides it willingly.

The comfort of feeling his heartbeat sync with yours. Of his gaze staring in your eyes. Of his warmth brush up against you.

He is white. Not as snow. But as a fluffy cotton ball.

With patches of grey so you can spot him in the snow.

With green eyes that glisten in the sunlight.

He doesn’t speak a lot. He doesn’t need to. Because he is the type who doesn’t need words or sounds to communicate.

He has a heart bigger than you can imagine. Because no matter how much you push him away, he always comes back as if you never revoked him. And he wants to share his hugs, his love, his warmth. Because he might seem naïve, but he still thinks everyone he meets is as nice and loving as him.

We would all be so lucky to have such people in our lives.

Shame that such traits can only be found in a cat, though.

Subjective Idyll

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Turquoise blue, crystal clear waters

White sand spreading beneath you like a carpet

Yellow-orange-red sunsets spanning a cloudless sky

Tranquillity, calm and serenity

The sound of waves embracing the shore

A light breeze clashing against your sun-kissed face

A wooden cottage-retreat with an endless view

A drive up the scenic mountains         

A walk into evergreen forests

Rafting down current

Hiking up a famous trail

Snowflakes on your icy-cold red nose

A snowman you brought to life

Idyll only has the significance you grant it.

Also part of Weekend Writing Prompt

The place we call home

©Ceayr

Home is where you feel safe.

It is the place where no matter how broken you are, you feel whole. As if all the pieces come together and are mended, even if only for a while.

It is the people who lift you up when you fall. Who are there to catch you when your wings are too soar to fly.

It is the love you receive from those who can hear your silence, who can feel your heart, even when you don’t say a word.

Home is something beyond a simple place.

It is an extension of your soul.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Cat-like

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Women are like cats. They like attention but not too much and on their terms, are independent and self-sustainable, move around a room like they own it, like to sleep as much as possible, like to cuddle but only when they want to, and can disappear for hours doing their own thing with no-one really knowing what that is.

Women are like cats in that they can claw their way out of a fight, just as easily as they can start one.

But most of all, they are like cats in the sense that they can reciprocate the love you show them and be the source of your serenity.

Charity was the most cat-like girl Jessop had ever met. He could almost swear to hear her purr when she fell asleep in his arms. She fought for her autonomy and demonstrated that she could handle her affairs on her own. But every now and again she would crawl to his side and press into his chest for a tight hug, something that would make all the troubles she didn’t share just go away.

Jessop liked that she was dynamic and feisty. But he loved it more when she became the vulnerable, chirpy girl he fell in love with. After all, every man adores being the protector of his girl.

But over the past weeks, something happened. It was as if the cat inside her curled up and hid from the world. She wouldn’t talk much, her smile had faded and she barely ate. She wouldn’t respond to his questions, even getting agitated by them and would retreat to her bed, sleeping more than the usual hours.

One morning, Jessop woke up to find a note on his bedstand:

If I show you I need you, take it seriously. It means more than just the words you understand. I do whatever I can to never have to depend on anyone, to avoid showing weakness and fear. But if I tell you I need you by my side, it means I am trusting you to catch me when I fall”.

The note was stained with droplets of tears.

Jessop sprung out of bed, got dressed and left.

He knew where she was. Cats always have a safe place. Somewhere they think no-one knows about, but if you follow them closely they’ll let you find them.

Happy Endings

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Did you always know you would end up together?” the little girl asked her Grandma who was baking a cake for her wedding anniversary. The child loved kitchen-table talk. It was the place where real-life stories were told. Where she realised that true love exists in reality and that sometimes, fairy tales do come true even after many hardships. It was all a matter of how much you wanted something, and how much you were willing to try for it.

Her grandmother smiled as she mixed the dough in a big round bowl. “Well, to be honest, I wasn’t sure. But I had a feeling this one was special. That there would be something more to this man who courted me so decisively.

You weren’t sure? Because I was certain!” Grandpa interrupted as he abruptly entered the kitchen and surprised Grandma with a peck on the cheek. She still blushed, even after all these years.

The child clapped happily. She was witnessing a couple who never aged and who lasted through time.

How did you know, Grandpa?

Well, I just did. It’s like an intuition. That special feeling when I first looked into your grandmother’s eyes. I just knew we’d click. As if our fates were from that moment tied together”.

Grandma smiled as she continued her baking. Her eyes sparkled as she recalled those first moments of their encounter.

I wish I will be lucky enough to find a love like yours,” the little girl said.

I’m sure you will,” Grandma responded. “When the time comes, that person who will cherish you and treat you like the most important treasure in the world will appear.”

The child sighed in optimism as she watched the elderly couple take care of each other as if they were still young lovers, as if none of the decades had passed over them.

“Those who love deeply never grow old; they may die of old age, but they die young” – Benjamin Franklin

Grounded

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As teenagers, we often complain, moan and storm into our rooms angrily when parents forbid us from doing something, usually going out. It has gained the term “grounded”, as if we are airplanes prohibited from flying to symbolise that our wings are being tied down.

Yet, the same word has another meaning: that of being well-balanced and sensible. Of being able to see both sides to every situation and being capable of taking a rational decision.

It is only when you are truly grounded – actually prevented from flying – that you realise what the whole concept really entails.

We have the option of going anywhere we want, practically at any time we choose to do so. Yet, we may not exploit this opportunity for months. But when that “given” is taken away, when the choice is removed, that is when we start to miss it.

Life has a strange way of altering your point of view and of offering valuable lessons.

Sometimes it is not about how far your travel, but how much you spread your wings and do fly. How much you take advantage of every opportunity life gives you.

The signs we choose not to see

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In everyday life we are surrounded by all sorts of signs. Not only literally, but metaphorically too. In most life-changing decisions we take, we unconsciously look for signs to reveal to us we are on the right path, or to help us choose which route to take, what move to make.

However, no matter how many signs are thrown our way, we usually only see what we want to see. Often we ignore even the warning signs that things are not going well, the ones that serve as precautions, as awakenings trying to draw our attention to something, calling us to change.

We choose to ignore the signs that try to help us because we don’t want to see them at that moment. We want to believe in something different and we refuse to accept that sometimes things don’t always turn out the way we hoped or planned.

That is until one sign hits us hard like a slap in the face and we are forced to see what we’ve been pushing aside for so long. It’s a sign we can no longer ignore, revealing that a cycle has been closed and we need to find the courage to close the door to it and move on.

 It’s only when we’re ready to see the signs that we accept their presence. We just have to be brave enough to let them guide us, but not dictate our next moves.

Avoiding the silence

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Many people start their day with the sound of the alarm clock buzzing in their ears. From that moment, our entire day is filled with noise – running water, the kettle singing, the phone ringing, email alerts, cars honking, doors slamming, music, trains on rails, voices of all pitches and intensities and so much more.

If you just sit still for a minute and breathe, you may even hear your own heart beat. Had it not been for all those noises that constantly surround us.

If you’re a person who easily gets lost in your thoughts, who drifts off in daydream or allows their mind to wander, every once in a while – perhaps more often than most people – you need the silence. You want to be able to enter public transportation without the hubbub, the clamour, the commotion. You don’t understand why people feel the constant urge to talk all the time. Some simply talk for the sake of talking. They are not really saying anything of substance; sometimes even nothing that makes sense. Perhaps sitting on the bus and talking on the phone to someone during the entire duration of your trip makes you feel important, that you’re not ‘wasting time’, or it is a way of keeping others astray. Because, yes, there are those types of people too, who want to talk so much that they will approach you and try to start a conversation out of nowhere, without your consent. Even if you kindly try to avoid it, it will turn into a monologue on their part, which you are obliged to listen. Unless you want to get off on the next stop and risk facing a worse situation on the next public transport you board.

People don’t appreciate the silence enough. It is as though they are avoiding their own thoughts. As if they are afraid of staying alone with themselves for a while. Of emptying their minds. Of discovering what their own perceptions on life are. Of even listening to the sound of their own heartbeat.

It is a shame. Because if we learned to be more mindful of our own well-being, of the rhythm of our breaths, of the ticking of our hearts, we wouldn’t be so agitated and stressed all the time, complaining about the world and everything in it.

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