[The Sea of Loneliness]
The sea of loneliness
1db67848cd1c95da0b182add1b7b26da
2021.10.28Views 16
It's an island in the middle of this vast ocean. I wonder where this ocean is, what's around this island, but I can't see anything, so I don't know. Realizing I can't do anything on this tiny island without a single tree, I slowly rewind the tape, the memories I have from this quiet place. It's an old, worn-out tape, stretched out and torn, but as I slowly rewind, a jumble of memories comes flooding back. These memories give me a little bit of understanding, but I can't grasp anything. But one memory that comes to mind perfectly is that I'm a very lonely person, and you are my friend.
For the dreams you couldn't achieve, for you to be happy, for you to make your dreams come true, I became a celebrity, but what's left by my side is not you, my precious friend, nor my fans, but only loneliness. You told me that I've become a celebrity, but that's just the mask that others see of me. So what, even if someone can't stay by my side, as long as you're happy, that's enough for me. These words that are easily spoken to me soon become a boat with holes called loneliness, and because I was on that boat, I fell into that deep sea, and even though I was suffocating, I sang toward the water, hoping to be heard above the surface, hoping for someone to answer.
The word "song" has made me lonely, but this song is something I cannot abandon because of you, even if I want to, and the sad fact that it is my only talent makes me flounder in the sea of loneliness every day. But still, on this small island, I once again sing out my own melody with my voice. Hoping someone will respond.
On this small, isolated island, I sing my own melody again, alone. On this isolated island, making my own sound, I ponder with all my heart, wondering if, with just a little more time, I could shine brightly if I let out a more wonderful melody of my own. But I realized that it's still difficult to come up with such an answer from my still-imperfect memory. Still, I sing again, hoping that if someone hears this song that no one answers, they will. It feels like even the blind whales swimming in the ocean can see me, and even the deaf whales can hear my voice, but no one answers. What can I do? There's nothing I can do. Still, I trust my hertz and sing my melody out loud.
This island I'm on must have a very, very deep sea. I can't see the bottom, it's a very, very deep blue, and the bottom of that deep sea looks dark. Even though only big whales swim here, I still raise my voice. What worries me is that all the whales are speaking different languages. Still, I want to convey the words "I love you" hidden behind my melody. I want to stop now, these rounds of singing alone, these performances without response. But the good thing is that even if I shed tears, no one will know. Even if sadness endlessly envelops me, sometimes I can let go of the sadness by shedding tears. Finally, a whale answered my voice.
Time here will be the only tape on my memory tape that is being recorded normally and happily. Unlike other memories, it won't be a tape that's stretched out or worn out, but one that can be heard again with joy.
Because I quietly organized my thoughts in the sea of loneliness, without anyone's intervention.