The Surrealism of Reality

There used to be a code of conduct for this when one will expect the significance of one day. Where there was much drama built up, so when it comes to pass, you can soak and bathe in it. But that has long been a lie, a fantasy, an attempt to make sense of the meaninglessness of the days that had previously gone, an attempt at consolation.

When it comes, the day doesn't stop, the responsibilities do not halt. There is just that fact sitting in front of you. When it comes, there is no fanfare, there is no orchestra, there is no heartbeat, and sometimes, there are no emotions. There is stupor probably, then there is amusement, there is wonder, and there is the feeling of surrealism. Then it halts and everything falls into silence, a silence that is not much different from the silence of the other days. It is an empty and lonely silence.

And there, you mull over and over. There is no drama. Just silence that is not deafening, and the overhanging responsibilities of life.