The one about the night and noises

Some nights look like thunderstorms…

You go dancing. You go partying. The noise. The Flashes. The people. The colours. Smiles. Smirks. Neon lights. Shots. Claps. Shouting lyrics…

Your mind goes blank. Meditation never was easier.
Oh, but some nights… 

The calm ones.
The ones where solitude becomes loneliness. The ones where the silence is so profound you can hear your heartbeat. The ones where the noise is so non-existent your ears get blocked from pressure.
And your mind? It goes frenzy, frantic… Meditation is impossible. You learn the meaning of chaos. You learn the meaning of war. Casualties? Some memories, some kind of behavior. Once very important. Nowadays the evolution of oneself considers them as a threat to one’s existence.
These nights kill us.
A version of us. A weak version. A vulnerable version. Or a strong one. Better one. We leave a trail of bodies. A self we could become or that used to be. Maybe we get bitter, maybe we get sweeter. Maybe we built another wall or crush some parts of it. But we never go through nights like this without casualties. Yeah, silent nights are the deadliest…

Remember when parents warned us to be extra cautious on our nights out?
Oh, but why did they forget to warn us of our nights in…