Lost inside my thoughts at night, silence is muted by the noise of my own mind. A deafening silence. Life and death, so fragile, such short moments. Why do we live by them? Time itself is defined by life and death. By the rise and fall of the sun everyday. How to define this I am going through right now? I don't feel alive nor dead. Time does not seem to exist here and now, as the entire known world to me. Like a caterpillar, trapped inside a cocoon, morphing myself to a butterfly, unaware of the changes on the outside, of the perils awaiting for her on the outside as she gets out in the search of the prettiest flowers on the path that leads to her partner, having to guess what way to go. Will I emerge as a butterfly or as a moth? Can one choose? Defined by genetics, sure. But that does not apply here. Self awareness and focus are probably the defining factors in this case. And if so, I shall emerge out of my cocoon as a beautiful Monarch, to cross the globe after my soulmate, in a difficult but rewarding journey. Facing all forces of nature to find her, and to finally be with her to the end of my short existence. I don't want to leave this capsule as a moth, to hide in the shades and wonder through the night. I want to emerge as one of her kind, a beautifully delicately coloured butterfly glowing and reflecting every ray of sunlight that finds her delicate silklike wings.
To Monicah, thanks for all the support and love you've showed, they were and have been crucial in my life. Thanks for convincing me to share my writings.