I've been staring for a long time, I don't know how much, on the palpitating cursor on the screen. It's as if the keyboard is mocking me, looking back at me sardonically. I am thankful these are silenced non-living entities for if they are not, they would just add to the injury. I cannot write. I can't just fucking write anything well or at least decently enough to be read. I need to get out!
Solvitur ambulando. I've come across this when I once read a book on meditation. It literally translates to "can be solved by walking". From then on, I tend to believe that walking could be a cure for a troubled heart or mind. Whenever I can't decide which dress to buy, I'll walk all around the mall, ending up with a worthy decision. When I don't know how to solve a certain problem, I'll stand and move back and forth across the room to think. Then, the Eureka moment comes...
"Anything can be solved by walking," I said to myself. If not, at least it can lessen the anxiousness I feel.
It's thirty past ten. The streets of the city were wet. I always admire the city when it's enveloped by darkness. It's when I can see it shines bright. I see the reflection of sunset-like street lamps on the water from the heavy downpour of rain earlier. These all blended majestically, I thought -- the carefree water, the gloomy road and the glowing artificial stars.
As usual, almost all establishments were closed. As I walk, I see some stores still open and ready to serve 24/7. The night provides, especially to small time vendors alongside streets that sell anything from naughty to nice. Once I reached the highway, not so far away, I can see restobars that are open with their haughty sign boards and appealing noises. These didn't seem to bother me. My mind rambles somewhere else.
I get irritated with the rushing vehicles that come and go. I have this irrational fear of crossing streets. I need to cross, I said to myself, or else I'll be left here. I am waiting for people to walk across to march with them. Why can't I do this alone? Why do I always have to wait for somebody and move forward?
One second I was home, the next I am in the city's square. As I move forward, I look around me and saw people coming from different directions. It seems to me that they knew where they're supposed to go. Some were walking fast and some are slow. One man was talking on the phone losing his shit while others are loud and laughing. There were lovers holding hands. I tried to stare at their faces as I pass by them in the hope that I would feel something... something warm... something compelling. Something that would make my blood rush through my veins and make me feel alive. An inspiration to motivate me to write. And... to feel that I am not the only soul wandering around this whole damned place. But people just see through me and I just receive indifferent, nonchalant gazes. I didn't know I am this lonely until I've seen them.
I feel detached to the world as my feet touch and stride to nowhere. I am going nowhere. So what? Does it matter? How could someone exactly know where to go?
I've finally found an empty seat. I can now sit and rest. My legs are numb and lethargic. I now suffer from the ache it carried around for a very long time. It finally had the chance to rebel against me after almost an hour.
Where am I now? I feel so lost. I feel isolated. I'm in a state of bleak. I looked up at the dim sky and see no stars. I am surrounded by the alluring city lights but I don't feel comforted. I always think that walking solves anything... everything! But why am I like this? I am broken. I'm like a sailor astray who cannot find the Polaris in the middle of the ocean.