It’s never easy to listen amongst the noise. The noise of existence around you. The blaring horns of words that demand an answer. Their need and your obligation. You oblige. That’s how the world survives and with it, you do as well.

What I mean is to really listen. Not to hear the formation of words in a syntax. To listen to it from your eyes. Eyes that bloom away stories out of the air, shouting for the world to hear them, but only you listen. It is then that you listen to, by keeping your breath flawlessly still. Your throat dries up in anticipation for more of it.

You’re thirsty now. You always were. The realization simmers down your mind, deviating you, and you bring it back. To listen to it again. Is this real?

You take a moment to answer it. A moment all it lasts. And.

And the noise gathers around and your question continues to hang in the balance. The eyes get back to see. The ears gather the sounds. You can feel a sighing breath passing by. All it took a moment for you to doubt. A moment for it all to vanish. Ever suspected this to be that moment? No one does.

Now you want to listen. You knock on the doors. The wrong doors, to listen. All you get is the noise. You console yourself about that lost moment. A hesitant moments’ flick of fingers. Gone.

Was that real? Or this is?