literature

Diary of Silence: Part 1

Deviation Actions

JasmineStencil's avatar
Published:
312 Views

Literature Text

Sixteenth day of the eleventh month, indoors

Sitting down for now, here are some restless thoughts of mine. No, I fear you will suffer through being stained with them for the rest of eternity. My fear is an expression some use in an attempt to dress up their wordplay, worry not. The personification I dub you with will not result in any harm done to you. As you are unable to interpret the drawll that shall be placed upon you.

  Re heating the tea took no more than 45 seconds. In those spare seconds I dare not calculate out of my life, I take the time to stare outside. Through the thinly paned glass door, I see the harsh weather glimmer in a seductive luster. This glacial beauty betrays warmth to the fragile humans I know to well walking to the Earth as I muse. No sense in playing hero, too many villains that can tear down the most valiant superman. Jaded beyond belief, my younger self would scowl and claim to never become as cold as I am now, though I cannot see myself that way. One such as myself is merely a bystander. Watching as the other children beat each other. Not hurting myself or my friends, so I allow him to continue on. No, he is hurting me. Making me feel powerless. This drove me into the deepest of depressions as some may claim, this drove me to my lowest of low. Hurting others never solved anything, so why would I be a hero if I murdered the villain? Who is good, what is bad. We're all just—my tangents escape me.

  The second hand is about to reach one, so I grin at my pleasure of the day. Catching the microwave before the ringing courses throughout the kitchen. I do not want to hear that ringing, it is too loud. Placing the cup down and re shutting the door, I can't help but be drawn back to my usual spot. Generally I reserve this pleasure for those few seconds when the tea is being warmed, but occasionally I selfishly touch the glass and feel the outside world entice every sense in my body. It wraps me up close in a binding spell that I never want to end, that cold perfection. Glass that keeps it from my, glass that will not allow me to reach it.

  Neighbors, people I have never met. I could not recall their faces even if I wished to do so, nor their usual behavior.  Their faces must be older, I am sure I would remember anyone close to my age. Those my age are strange, not horrible beings at all, merely strange. They speak a language I have careful decifiered. I am actually quite proud that I was able to, seeing as these kind of folk tend to have a more vulgar nature than I have ever been accustomed to.

  How can one joke about the severity of a woman or man being raped? A child starving, the colour of ones skin, or even sexual acts that cause me to detest them ever so slightly. I suppose when one becomes desensitived to these kind of actions they feel apart from it. I cannot say I am any better, for I shrug off with nonsensical eyes the cries of my younger sister and dearest friend like it was the furnace roaring out the warmth.

  The jubilance that courses through me lets me escape from it for a moment. The neighbor's lights are on. This hour, what ever it may be, causes the sun to duck behind the horizon. This is ever so slightly different for them, I can see the garage. The porch light across out deck into their yard is also on, and through the window I can see through the rectangular window of the garage.
  How wonderful their garden is, if it weren't for the snow I could see the lettuce and strawberries growing gently, well nourished under the crisp summer sky. Summer is long gone you see, the snow is here to torture my friends who play in the dirt.
  
  Though snow hurts my loves, my very heart, I cannot help admiring its eternal beauty. The lights from the neighbors yard cause the snow not to glitter, but to shadow in glorious yellow light. How nice it must be to be air, always able to be everything at once, and yet keep in a stable state. Sure you would not be pure, but it would be a corrupt nature you could live with without shame. Air is wonderful, no one can hate it. Air is the ultimate hero, mother of nature. The best element, and is so kind as to let me see the beautiful light shine on the snow.

Smoke has always been around. Thick cigars, piercing into skin, enveloping life, and leaving men impotent. It is not smokes fault people abuse it, smoke is merely a byproduct of our want of a little comfort. Pardon, a little more comfort.

Still, I never did recall our neighbor smoking. There on the porch directly in front of our own, all alone in the cold a figure smoked. Usually I would assume it was a man, but the figure was impossible to decipher without my spectacles. This particular figure was wearing a shirt of red through, vibrant and demanding, I never particularly liked red. It's cousin copper has always been my favorite, though I fully admit to loving his sister pink when I was young.

  Sitting so still smoking away it's life, the figure perfects the scene. I want to paint it, if only I could paint! My hands are cursed in the sense they can produce nothing but everything. As we are all well aware of by this point in our lives (if you are a dearly departed soul reading this, please accept my forgiveness!) everything is always far worst than nothing.
  
   Touching my lips gently, I come to realize a smile is sticking to my face in a manner that is making it sore. How utterly, unforgivably selfish it is for such a wonderful sight for only my eyes to witness! None shall ever see it though…perhaps someday I will paint my memories to make them see. Though it will not result in much, I do hope it will be something that satisfies their souls.

  Careless though. For said figure to smoke leaving the light on the garage so frivolity. Lights need to be shut off the moment you leave the room, rule of tongue I dare say. I am not shy in the least, perhaps I could…dare I…go out to speak with it, informing it of the hanging light—
  Hanging light. Yes, that is a good way to describe the scene before me. Though it is insufferably rude to bother another with my presence. I suppose I shall just watch, it is really quite lovely.

  I do wonder who the other is. The one hanging so carelessly from their neck below on the rope in the garage.  But I have overstayed my welcome…I guess I shall return now, for spending so much time in heaven should truly be a sin for one such as myself.
~

Part 1: [link]

Part 2: [link]
© 2011 - 2024 JasmineStencil
Comments4
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
3lly-rock-girl714's avatar
w-wow..I'm at a loss..spellbound. Really amazing job.