Alone

Sometimes, in the world of people, good and evil, it feels good to be alone. Alone, where there is no interruptions from peace and quiet. Alone, where you can think, say, do anything you want to, without being judged. Sing, dance, or just laugh silently to yourself, all to yourself, with nothing else to hear. Sometimes I wish I can live in that world, in a perfect place, but once in a while come back to the real world, back with the quietest and noisiest people I know, back to the love and hate, back to the distractions of life. When I leave my perfect world, with either your heart filled with joy that you finally get to sing and dance, or from the world of sadness, but a perfect, lonely world, drowning in your tears, I imagine coming back as a hero. Not to others, but to myself. A hero, that I got to spend either a few minutes, or a few days of perfect, absolute silence. And will adventure back out to the world of chaos of people and things, full angles, and love, or monsters and hate, without a sword on my back.