Listen on repeat

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CIVILIZATION (n.) – an advanced state of human society, in which a high level of culture, science, industry, and government has been reached

CIVILIAN (n.) – anyone regarded by members of a profession, interest group, society, etc. as not belonging; outsider

CIVIL (adj.) – polite or courteous; (n.) – of the citizen as an individual

This is what we are—a watery reduction of black and white definitions, a binary system where the only answers are yes or no, where we’re merely either living or dying. There isn’t the in between, the uncertainty—there is no room for it in a world that seeks answers, always just answers. When we do find answers, we quickly move on to more pressing questions. What we do with the answers, nobody bothers to ask. No one seems to be comfortable enough, courageous enough.

It is an end to a civilization that nobody notices, or perhaps nobody dares to address. We are the best of the world yet—infinitely smarter and wiser than our forefathers. We earn degrees the past generation has never even heard of, we hold jobs that didn’t exist in the past. Yet somewhere along the smart prisons of modern science and technology, we’ve lost something everyone deems unimportant: our capability to feel and empathize and love. Somehow, in the race to find answers, we’ve forgotten to ask more questions. What is all of this for? What are we racing towards? Aren’t we all just running around in circles, bumping and hitting against each other to make friction, just to assure ourselves that we’re all still moving towards something? We all have our backs turned against each other, heartless, relentless, oblivious to the body next to ours. We are all merely another face in the sea of blood-pumping robots.

I say ‘we’ because I am just as doomed, just as heartless, just as anonymous. I’d like to think I am better than them, because I think, I wonder, I question. But I’m just as powerless, aren’t I? I hold it in, I close my eyes, and I become just as mindless as the next breathing robot. I am no better. I am worse. I am a coward.

Now we ask for companionship not for its own sake, but rather because we are always jealous and always looking for something we do not possess. We use others, we cheat, we lie. There is no sincerity—we barely make eye contact. We, who call ourselves citizens, think as individuals, not as civil human beings who know politeness and courtesy, who think for the greater good of humanity. But what is humanity when we are all imprisoned by our own selfish desires?

He looked up from his notebook as a slight bump hit his coffee table. He took a moment to reorient himself back to reality in the form of an almost deserted coffee shop and a half-empty cup. He saw a woman with a walking stick still standing beside his table.

“I’m really sorry,” she bowed in his general direction. “I hope I didn’t spill anything.”

“As you can see, you didn’t.”

“Oh.” She was startled by his curt tone. She bowed one last time before walking away.

The woman did not even bother to look him in the eyes, the tapping of her stick leading her on. Yet despite that, he couldn’t help but watch her amble to a table. Somehow, something was different about her.

She set her coffee down tentatively, slightly feeling the edges of the table to sit down. She smiled when she located the seat. The smile didn’t leave her face—if anything, it grew wider. It was a beautiful smile, the first genuine smile he’s seen in a while. He wondered what the reason for it was. He watched her, curiosity piqued. Everything about her was so tentative, so evenly paced, and so unlike the bustling little tornado that everyone else was. She held the coffee cup with both hands, gently placing it to her lips. Another smile as the tingling bitterness hit her tongue.

He looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with her genuineness. It will waver, that beautiful optimism, and when the day comes, it will be all too soon. Everyone crumbles—nobody survives this cold world unscathed. And for the first time in a while, Kyungsoo felt no resentment. Instead, he only felt sadness seep through him.

-

Kyungsoo sat up on his bed, rubbing his eyes as the sun streamed through the windows. Another day, another routine. Does anyone still think of a greater purpose in living? Does anyone dare break away from their routines? Does anyone still venture to try something new? He was as stuck in a lonely rut as everyone else. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, and ate a piece of bread before heading out to take the subway for work. He always arrived at 8:55 and left work at 5:03. He always stopped by the coffee shop at around 5:30, ordered black decaf, and sat down at the same corner by the window. He was comforted by the routine, by the artificial calm in the coffee shop.

He wrote about nothing and everything. He’d like to think he was making a difference, getting his thoughts out to the world in that way. But nobody saw what it was in his notebook. How could it change the world? And even if they did see it, it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. The world’s too corrupted for that. So he wrote, if only to appease his scorn for the world. He was a closet protester, a thinker instead of a doer. He hated himself for that, but what could he do? He’s just as much a coward as those he hated.

The bells tinkled as a customer made her way in. Kyungsoo ignored it as he always did, setting pen to notebook. Except there was suddenly a rhythmic clicking, a tapping of a walking stick against the linoleum floor. She’s here again. He looked up, surprised. He watched her move to the counter, smiling at the barista. The barista smiled back.

“Joonie?” Her eyes never quite meet the man’s. Was eye-contact uncomfortable for her?

“The one and only,” the guy beamed.

“Hi, Joonie!” There was familiarity in her voice. She must be a regular, but I’ve just never noticed her before. “Surprise me this time.”

The guy laughed. “Cold or hot?”

“Whatever you decide. You know the size.”

“Alright. That’s on me today.”

“No!” She frowned. “I’m paying.”

“I’m experimenting on your drink today, so I’ll pay in case it tastes bad.”

“Are you sure? You know I’ll drink anything you give me.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” he laughed, sliding his own card in before pressing a few buttons. “There. It’s already paid for, so you can’t do anything about it.”

“Joonie.”

“Heeshin.”

“Fine. Thanks for the drink, then.” She smiled again.

“Of course.”

She turned and started walking towards Kyungsoo’s direction. He quickly turned his attention back to his notebook. There was no spark of recognition as she passed by him. He should’ve expected the cold treatment, but he was still disappointed. She kept walking towards the back, the same seat she sat on the last time. Like the last time, she also patted down the table corners before slowly taking a seat, smiling as she did so.

Then, it hit him.

“As you can see, you didn’t.”

Kyungsoo felt a wave of foreign emotion hit him—guilt. She’s blind. And I said that to her. He watched as the guy named Joonie delivered the coffee to her. She smiled at him, or where she thought his face would approximately be. The sun hit her eyes, a beautiful hazel brown.

She is an anomaly, a sliver of happiness where everything seemed gray and dull.

It was a spur of the moment decision, another foreign concept for him. He stood up and walked over to where she was, knocking on the table twice as he cleared his throat.

“Um, excuse me.”

She looked up, unseeing. “Yes?”

“Hi. I’m the guy you bumped into yesterday…” he didn’t know how else to introduce himself.

“Oh, hi. Hm. I bump into a lot of people, though,” she laughed.

He froze, unsure of what to say next.

As if feeling his discomfort, she smiled warmly. “I remember you, don’t worry.” He felt his heart stir.

“Is it okay if I sit across you?”

“Why not?” She laughed, no suspicion or hidden emotion.

“I just wanted to apologize for being rude yesterday. I didn’t know.”

“What do you mean?” She cocked her head to the side.

He’d rather not repeat it. “Uh.”

“Oh! Do you mean the ‘as you can see’ thing?”

He nodded before remembering that she couldn’t see. “Yeah.”

She laughed. “That’s okay. It’s a phrase. People use it. No big deal.” She made sweeping motions with her hands.

He stayed quiet, contemplative.

“Are you still there?”

“Yeah. I didn’t leave.”

“I know. I would’ve heard you,” she said lightly. “But I’m just making sure you didn’t leave me,” she continued, a teasing tone in her voice.

He stayed silent.

“You’re not much of a talker, huh?”

“I just don’t know what to say.”

“Well, how about we start with introductions?” She extended a hand. “Hi! My name is Heeshin. Hee for ‘hope, 희망’ and shin for ‘faith, 신앙.’ Heeshin.”

“Kyungsoo. Just Kyungsoo.” He took hold of her hand, shaking them. He was feeling too many things at once—electricity, warmth, optimism, hesitation, wonder.

“Well, hi there, Just Kyungsoo.” She laughed. That was another thing he wasn’t used to—jokes. “Are you a regular here?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got to give me more than that.”

He cleared his throat. “I come here regularly.”

She made a face. “That’s not what I meant.”

He shrugged.

“Hello?” She reached out an index finger to try finding a hand.

“Oh. Sorry.” He forgot again. Her eyes were so alive, so happy, it was easy to forget.

“Well, I’m pretty loud, so I guess I could do the talking. Will you listen?” She smiled hopefully.

Why is she so trusting?

“Yeah. I’ll listen.”

“Okay. Well, let’s see. I’m a regular here too. It’s so peaceful, isn’t it? That’s what I like most about it. And the smell of coffee is always so calming. Is that weird?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“You don’t have to be so formal," she laughed. “I work close-by, and I guess this is my way of winding down.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So I’m wondering, why have we never talked before? You’re a regular. I’m a regular.”

“I guess you knocked your way into my world?” He asked contemplatively.

She guffawed. “Hey, did you just make a joke?”

“Did I?” He wasn’t sure.

“I hope you can do that more often,” she said simply.

-

We meet, hold hands, feel, laugh, and cry together. We resemble one another and we are connected. Perhaps I was wrong. She may not see the world, but she sees more of it than I do. She sees hope in it.

“What do you see?”

She laughed. “That’s not really a fair question. I see nothing.”

“Sorry.”

“Quit apologizing! I was just kidding.” She reached out a hand. He immediately bridged the distance between their fingers. Kyungsoo wasn’t comfortable with contact, but with her, it was okay. It was her way of seeing—feeling him.

“To answer your question…” She thought for a few seconds. “Well, I see light and darkness. Light filters through.”

“Is that why you like that seat?”

She smiled the smile that started visiting his dreams, circling and looping into an optimistic film in his mind. “Good observation, Kyungsoo. This table has the best lighting in the shop, so I like sitting here.”

“Doesn’t it get tiring? Only seeing light and dark?” He asked softly. It was binary—no different from the way the world actually was.

“No, not at all,” she smiled. “It isn’t just dark and light—there are other sensations too. Your ears, your taste buds, your skin. I’d like to think it makes me appreciate the world a bit better. You don’t really have a choice—you have to listen more closely, feel more closely than someone who’s been gifted with eyes. It’s really something beautiful, listening to the world whir and move and come alive.”

“But doesn’t it seem dark to you? Doesn’t it seem hopeless sometimes?”

“Kyungsoo, there will always be darkness, blind or not. What you and I can do is just keep our eyes open so light can come in.”

-

CONTENTMENT (n.) – satisfaction; ease of mind

CONTENT (adj.) – not wanting more or anything else; (n.) – everything that is inside a container

Perhaps this was why the world was so bleak. I wasn’t letting the light in. There is still war, there is still hunger, there is still discord. But above those horrors is beauty in the small things—quiet coffee shop conversations, fingers lacing together, laughter ringing in the air.

Companionship isn’t always tainted by ill-will or bad intentions. There will still be users. There will still be malicious approaches. But there are also accidental encounters and kind-hearted people who open up and wait patiently until you can do the same.

It isn’t the end of a civilization—it’s a skew in people’s perception. It won’t change in a day, but it could start with individuals. It could change with one positive light in the darkness. And if we keep our eyes open, if we encourage others around us to open theirs, then light will come in. It has no choice but to go through.

With hope and faith in a quiet balance, I’m learning to appreciate life, to hear the world whir and come alive. I’m learning to make new relationships. I’m learning to take tentatively certain steps. The world isn’t binary—it’s filled with people who hope despite setbacks. It’s filled with people who have the faith to strive for something better. It isn’t selfish hope, it isn’t mindless faith. It is humanity.

I’m not whole. I am broken. But I’m getting fixed. I’m learning to smile. I am learning to let the light in.

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I have no idea what I just wrote. All I know is, this has been one of the most difficult pieces I've written. Thank you, sorrowfulrain, for the challenge. Hahaha I know this probably wasn't what you had in mind, but I hope it was still satisfying to read. It isn't exactly the concept of the song, but I thought I'd give it a different spin. Comment your thoughts below, as usual. ^_^