Journal Entry #61
Peerzada Muzamil The Emptinesss "This entry was inspired by the works of Ambrose Bierce" And I was asked, ‘’why are you silent?’’ You see, what could be better than retorting that I was not, and it was rather that I was empty – as empty as a wine glass, waiting to be poured in and to be sipped from. But how can a man who has sailed across every vengeful oceans, full of tempests and perils, remain as silent as a rotten corpse? Isn’t my heart as agitated as a tumultuous sea – the sea which is doomed by the darkest of the storms? Isn’t my fretted heart devoured and drowning? Aren’t the cold and sturdily surging billows splashing against its sallow walls within? No. I am not empty, I am as devoid of the words as the hot odious desert is of water. Shall I see no oases? Why am I deluded, every time by the hopeless mirages? Why is my tongue fettered? Why can’t I utter a word? Why are my lips forlorn and shriveled, and cracked because the words have dried of