• thehemantkashyap 5w

    Ataraxia is one of my favorite words in the English Language, and according to Dictionary.com, it means, "a state of freedom from emotional disturbance".


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    The nearest town was half an hour ago. I had found myself out there without my own knowledge, as if I were a moth and the place, some lonely fire out in the night. On reflex, I snapped my head up and peered into the cosmos.

    I decided that to truly absorb the night, I needed to lie down. And so I did. The grass was tall enough to engulf me but not so tall as to take over the night. The millions of stars became a mirror as I reflected upon everything. Just like that.

    I felt like I was in the eye of the storm; like I was made of stone. I watched on from a hundred miles above myself as the green sea around me came alive. The wind churned the grass to make waves of hundreds of scents and the night just added a touch of sweetness just right into the mix. And so, I was unreachable.

    On the ground I was. I was up there too. I was in floating in the breeze, buried under the earth, sailing on the ocean. Yet, I was nowhere at all.

    I realized that I was a coastline. Broken an jagged and battered, yes. Made up of a millon cracks, yes. Yet unaffected by the hurricanes making port, the waves crashing and the winds howling over me.

    The constellations danced around the Pole Star like a tribal people - ancient, ancestral, celestial. I was the sole witness. I was elusive. I was. The night moved along languidly, the stars circled Polaris like clockwork and I was there. In the middle of the grandest of affairs.

    I felt that I must have heard the moonless night calling; it could not be a thing as trivial as a coincidence. My thoughts were nowhere to be found. The voices in my head were silent, awestruck. I was tranquil, ready to reflect the night.

    And so I did. I became the night itself.