It's an echo. This loud, familiar, repetitive sound.
THE sound. THE echo.
It's been here before. It always comes back.
We know it all too well.
After all, it made us into what we are today.
Way before we heard it we were shapeless.
Featureless objects floating in the water.
Flat like its surface.
Nothing deep about us.
Our fates yet to be determined.
Until we clashed.
Drifted for so long we were bound to clash.
That's when the sound happened.
It carried over the water, through the air, into the deeps.
We were left in awe... We woke up into the world.
Afraid of the unknown. Excited by the unknown.
Accompanied by the sound.
Way back then it was a melody.
I remember it to be a melody.
A masterfully composed collage of meaningful notes.
Every one of them was special.
Precious. Timeless. Glorious.
It kept on moulding us patiently.
Sculpting us and teaching how to live.
Day by day.
Until it crashed.
Something broke it, broke the record.
We didn't know when or how or why.
Woke up to it being reduced into the echo.
The echo we're hearing now. Just a snippet.
On an endless loop.
A faded memory. Shadow in the distance.
We're never getting back what we've lost that time.
We can only listen to a fraction of it.
Separately. It no longer binds us.
Hearing it is like putting a glass shard to our ears.
It cuts deep.
Constant reminder of days past.
Of what we've lost.
I wish it would stop.
I want it gone. Gone for good. All of it.
All what's left of it.
So I'm trying to get rid of it by myself.
No luck yet.
But I think... with a bit of help...
From someone else out there.
One day I will listen to a full melody again.
Even make it my own one.
If I can be so bold.
A better one.
With a bit of help.
Compose it with someone.
Our own melody.