Anyone who’s unfortunate to make eye contact with me would face my aggressive demeanour like fifty slaps on there face. The bus was crowded and bodies were rubbing against each other in a slimy war of sweat. That wasn’t as bad as the piecing noise. A lady approached me with an innocent smile and asked whether I was ok.

I hate noise. I hate small talks. I hate it when people thinks talking is the best way to dissolve awkwardness.

But unfortunately that is my reality, my 9-5 with no pay. This is what I deal with every day. Everyone is in your personal space, their nose deep in my personal business.

Sometimes I felt like wanting to tear my hair out. Weil out a volcanic tantrum of insults.

But I don’t say anything. Talking increases the volume of madness in this world. Sometimes I wonder how it would feel like with everyone quite in this world. We could hear birds sing, the breeze whispering, plants copulating and maybe we could finally hear a pin drop. How beautiful would it be to witness the stagnant changes between seasons because we are more quite and more observant.

I smiled to myself while imagining all these. It also feels good to think and be alone in our thoughts by yourself without people snooping.

That’s when I was tapped on the shoulder by the brunette who talked to to me earlier. And all the buzzing confusion return again.