Beauty in Nothingness

There’s beauty in nothingness to do.

You seek and find patterns in the silence.

The cricket chirps a steady vocal backdrop for the handball against the pavement, ba bam, ba bam, ba bam…

Sleeping makes me feel like I’m in the hospital again.

There was something comforting about it.

The materials of living provided to you,

the standardized eating schedule,

the noise stripped away for soft isolated beeps timing my naps,

my retreats into nothingness.

Relaxation into sterility,

The cleanliness of my environment a given,

my cleanliness the remaining article of control.

I now feel the gravity of my mania and the words I spoke during it.

There are serious things that could have happened to me that haven’t.

There have been actions taken by me that have impacted others in ways I have yet to feel.

There is beauty in nothingness.

Tracing a circle with my legs on the pavilion at 1:09 AM at Maria Hernandez Park,

because what else is there to do in a park than content yourself with what is,

the bareness of temporary nomadic existence.

I must carve out spaces of time for it,

decoupling it from my internal rhythm,

the steady unceasing,

by the second void,

Eternal nothingness is monotony,

sacred nothingness is the precipice for genesis,

a sprout borne from my catalogue of memories.

It starts with a croaky whisper and becomes an effortless note or a tonal breakthrough.

I have several footholds in several places growing towards the center and making me whole.

Alhamdulillah.