Immersed in my own world, I began to live quietly, letting my inner self return to peace.
Only then did I truly appreciate the benefits of 'stillness.' Rotation may be dazzling and brilliant, but it comes with tension and haste; it can leave the soul increasingly weary and rigid, stripping away its texture and color. Only by living quietly can we be led back to beauty, allowing us to feel the dreamlike beauty of blue skies and white clouds. Honestly, it has been a long time since we paused to look up at the sky and offer a sigh of admiration. Trapped in the frantic rhythm of daily life, we rush endlessly, and much of that beauty fades away, becoming something we take for granted. Perhaps we are losing many beautiful things and getting lost along the way.
I am growing more fond of feeling quietly, intoxicated and immersed. Far away from all disturbances, I walk alone in silence. In that moment, all external auras and standards become insignificant—mere superfluous dust that settles to the ground, leaving nothing to bear. The wind becomes gentle, the clouds pale, and everything turns light. Quietly, I comprehend the people and events in life; quietly, I perceive the beauty and depth within; quietly, I learn to cherish and collect; quietly, I allow my thoughts and emotions to enrich themselves. I admit I feel lonely, but I have found a sense of pleasure that is far more beautiful than the real world and far more enticing.
Like a scroll slowly unrolling, I await the collision with poetry. Recalling the past, those remaining mottled images freeze forever at the perfect angle, preserving the beauty of the past bit by bit, edited into a silhouette of time, becoming an album of years. Though the past has become wind, it still possesses a warming power and gold-like preciousness. In this stillness, I savor the former beauty, retrieving that authentic heart, purifying the soul to transparency. I love recalling in silence; it ensures I never lose my good heart and keeps me forever longing for the blue sky.
I can sense the beauty of that quietude, silencing all noise yet emitting a different harmonic sound in the silence. I have begun to appreciate the beauty of still objects; though silent, they speak through their posture and color. It is a broader world, readable only when one’s inner self is deep and appreciative. In that moment, I am grateful for finding such thoughts. Still objects hold stories, time, emotions, and memories. All beauty can exist solely for you.
Walking down a bustling, lively street, watching people come and go, I think it’s fine, but I feel my own world is utterly quiet. It is a quiet appreciation beyond the bustle, and I enjoy this kind of walking. Winter is cold; I turn up my collar, place my hands in my trench coat pockets, and move quietly through the crowd alone. I feel at ease and calm. The bustle is merely the background behind me, receding one by one.
Quietly, everything just exists quietly and unfolds quietly, so still that I cannot bear to leave. After the rotation, I will live quietly.
