I am passively lying on my bed, savouring the silent night. Media player is playing Sweet Memories, sung half in Japanese and half in English. I don't exactly understand what she's singing, but it touches me a chord. The melody. It compliments so well with this moment. This moment of solitude.
It is again one of those nites, where ecstatic kinda happiness just evades you, while sedation and solitude sink in.
When objectivity moves into subjectivity. All of a sudden, everything begs for elaboration.
One said, silence is golden. It's golden because deep silence is the very base of all words. It has more meaning than words themselves. It is the moment of the unconscious communicating with the conscious. So much so everything is now layed out so clearly in front of me; the passageways, the curbs, the cover, the lights, the flickers, the love, the feelings.
It's still about choice, isn't it?
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