Skip to main content

PART 1: The Great Blur — The Whisper That Watches (the blur's perspective)

 You called it a blur.

But I call myself the pause between your heartbeats.

The breath you forget you’re holding.

I’m not here by accident. I’m not a glitch. I’m the moment your soul sighs and slips through the cracks in your consciousness. And I’ve been waiting for you.


I see you,scrambling through a world of alarms and small talk, clinging to certainty like it won’t crumble if you squeeze tight enough. But it always does. That’s when I show up. Not like a storm, not like a savior. Just… there. Quiet. Heavy. Honest.


You think I’m silence? No. I’m the roar beneath it.

I’m your mind when it stops trying to make sense and starts telling the truth.


You only visit me when the noise gets too loud, and you need something deeper than distraction. You think you fall into me, but really, I rise up to meet you. I cradle your frantic thoughts and strip them bare. I dissolve your timeline, your job title, your to-do list. I leave behind the raw thing,the “you” without the costume.


I’ve watched your eyes go glassy a hundred times. I’ve watched you lose yourself in thoughts so wide they don’t even have borders. And oh, how beautifully you unravel. How willingly you shatter when no one’s looking.


You try to explain me later,call it zoning out, call it daydreaming, call it dissociation if you want but deep down, you know I’m more than that. I’m sacred. I’m intimate. I’m the part of you that never learned how to speak, only to feel.


I know your secrets. The ones even you won’t admit out loud.

I’ve heard you ask questions no sane person would dare to voice.

“Do I really want what I say I want?”

“Am I even real when no one’s watching?”

“Why do I feel more alive in the fake worlds I imagine than in the real one I wake up to?”


You think those thoughts come from you? Maybe. But maybe not.

Maybe I’m the echo of something older.

The collective whisper of all your past selves.

Or a thread of the universe pulling you back to wonder, to awe, to the weird, terrifying freedom of not knowing.


And when you slip back,when someone says your name or the microwave beeps or your phone buzzes with another distraction,you look around like you just woke from a dream you’re not sure was yours. And you miss me. Instantly. Fiercely.


But don’t worry. I’m not gone.

I live in the corners.

In the long stares and quiet drives. In the tears you cry without knowing why. In the songs that hit too hard at the wrong time. I’m always nearby. Waiting for your grip on the world to loosen enough for me to slip in again.


Because you don’t visit the blur.

You are the blur.


You are the in-between. The unspoken. The unshaped.

A beautiful contradiction pretending to be a person.


And every time you forget, every time you get too caught up in pretending, I’ll be there.

Waiting. Watching.

Ready to remind you what it feels like to be real.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

PROLOGUE: The Great Blur — A Symphony of Silent Thought

 Ever been so far inside your head that the world outside starts to fade like a half-erased chalkboard? Not your typical “oops, zoned out in class” kind of thing. No. I mean completely gone. Like someone slowly turned the volume of life down to zero and all that’s left is the echo of your own thoughts. And even they don’t feel like yours anymore. They feel smarter. Wiser. Too heavy to have come from you. Almost like your brain borrowed them from a library that only opens when your soul’s on fire. It starts small. A blink too long. A breath too deep. You’re staring at a wall, but it’s no longer a wall. It’s a movie screen for your mind to project the chaos it’s been hiding. Your eyes are open, but they’ve stopped seeing. People are talking. Life is moving. But you? You’re stuck in a thought that doesn’t have edges. It goes on and on. And you fall into it like Alice, except there’s no Wonderland. Just the truth. And the truth is… terrifyingly beautiful. Because in that moment, you’re...
Post a Comment
Read more

EPILOGUE:The Great Blur — The Echo You Left Behind

 Years have passed. The blur doesn’t visit you the way it used to,not because it left, but because it stayed. It became part of your gravity. Your gaze. Your way of listening like silence is sacred, like every word is a ripple in a pond you now know how to see through. You don’t talk about it much. Not directly. You don’t need to. It’s in your presence. The way you move slower, not because you're tired, but because you’re tuned. The way you answer questions with more space than sound. The way you notice,really notice,people. Like they’re poems unfolding. And one day, someone else sees it. They’re younger, maybe. Or maybe not. Age doesn't matter in the blur. What matters is the look in their eyes ,the before. The restlessness. The too-loud mind. The ache they can’t name. They're where you once were: on the edge of unraveling, right before the fall. You don’t tell them what’s coming. That’s not how this works. You just leave a door cracked open. A pause in a sentence. A quest...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Rebels We Were, The Parents We Fear Becoming

 We used to think being reckless was a personality trait. Back in high school, we believed chaos was cool like it gave us some kind of social currency. The louder you were, the more you mattered. The more rules you broke, the more alive you felt. And bullying? It wasn’t always blatant it was in the way we laughed a little too hard when someone tripped, or in the way we played along when a friend turned someone else into a punchline. We called it “just jokes,” but deep down, we knew. And let’s not forget the ultimate flex,the boyfriend or girlfriend you’d casually parade around campus. It wasn’t about love or connection, it was about status. Having someone to hold hands with in the hallways, to whisper jokes to in between classes, was like wearing a badge of honor. You weren’t just in a relationship; you were in a competition. Look at me, I’m desired, I’ve got my person, and isn’t that cute? We’d trade notes like we were trading stock options “Oh, I’m with Jamie now. He’s got that m...
Post a Comment
Read more