The Night's Tranquility

      It was night and it was cold, and all i could think about is how bad i wanted to jump out of my bed and head off to a peaceful place and just figure things out. I was really bad at getting ideas in the middle of the day light; it was both the dark and the silence that enabled me to think clearly. My friends always wondered how I could possibly get out of my warm bed after midnight just to grab a pen and a piece of paper and write down what I feel and think about. The idea of me having to write down my thoughts just blew their minds. "Since when our thoughts should be written down?" They usually asked. I could never understand what amazed them so much in me having to do so! "Sometimes my mind just get stuffed with ideas that I would feel of a sudden urge to throw them off on a piece of paper and rest my weary mind," I often explained. That night, in particular, I could hear nothing but nosiy voices in my head. How was it different from any other night? Why did it feel to me as if it was so full of angry voices craving for the unknown? Or was it just my head drawing unexplained figures? I believe it was, for that as usual, two pages front and back and these angry voices began to vainsh in the dark night's tranquility. Eventually, my thoughts sneaked out of my mind and silenced these voices as my pen hit the papers. It was all gone, I tell you.