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It's Like..

bismillah.

Ehem.. I was writing a whole lot of stuffs before as the beginning of this post. But I'm afraid I might regret publishing those words. So, I'm cutting it short. I was reminiscing about an old man I met some time ago.

I met him one day, when I was going to the night market. We were 6 feet away from each other, waiting at the side of the road, to cross. We didn't talk. Well, I didn't. Because I was too afraid to open my mouth. He was an old man. And I was supposed to help him cross the road.

I am not used to watching both sides before crossing the road. That's not me. I was putting my feet on the road, and I caught a glimpse of him. He was raising his hands, and shaking his head, saying 'no'.

I drew my feet away, moved closer to him. But I didn't said a word. Not even offered my help. And he was just standing there. Even when the coast is clear, he didn't cross.

Later on, I made my move. I was walking, and turned back. And he wasn't there anymore.
It's like..


MAGIC

And that, brief encounter, made me thought about everything.
How my silence, is preventing me, from talking. And telling.


I am standing in still. While the whole world moves around me. Forward.
And I'm frozen.
To my own weakness.

Now, I don't remember how to move.



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