Island

When I was about 8 years old I used to imagine my closet was an island and that I was king. I would rule over the island with an iron fist and there were only two rules: everyone had to listen to me and no one could utter a word. For hours I used to sit in my closet and imagine the water surrounding my domain in complete silence. No one bothered me at all because no one could say a word or else be forever banished off the island, and as much as you hated not being able to say a word, you were also completely enamored by the silence. This is why I made it a law that no one could ever speak, so that I would have a place to sit in silence. No one could judge or fight or scream or yell and everyone was private. It was better that way, to surround myself in positive thoughts and not have to see the world around me that was better, smarter, faster and more attractive than I. When I sat on my island, without communication we were all equal, since no one could express their favoritism. I used to think that everyone was thinking about me for once. I used to say in my head, "well if they needed to ask someone a question, they would totally come to me." I loved my island.

As years passed I realized that I was neglecting my island. I visited it occasionally but by now it was deserted, and I sat there in my silence alone thinking that maybe people would come visit again, but they never did. My closet island was destroyed when I was 9 and I was forced listen to the minds of others. I was forced to hear their mindless chatter about parties, politics and superficiality. I was no longer king of anything. It was rough at first to adjust to the idea that perhaps I was not the best at anything.

Even more years passed and my island was completely annihilated and but a distant memory. I now shared my inner thoughts and problems with the world around me who eagerly waited to dump their problems on me. It was a give-give relationship, but I was okay with it. People came in and out of my life quicker than wind through a tunnel, but it was nice to feel the breeze.

And now I am writing this blog, reminiscing the days where I had my island. I type vigorously to an unknown audience stating my issues and problems and thoughts and ideas. And throughout the memories and ramblings I have created, I come to realize that I am still on my island, and this is still all the silence I needed, but I was never king.