The Peace of Solitude

What’s something most people don’t understand?

I would like to be left alone without anyone knowing I ever existed. Which part of alone did the black magic practitioners fail to understand? Who cares about you? What is so great about you? I don’t care about you. Stop casting black magic hexes on me. I do not want to have anything to do with you.

I am not your friend and do not want you as a friend because you are nothing to me in this relationship. I have burned all the names—I do not want to be associated with anyone anymore. They have given me too much trouble and serve no purpose in my life right now.

Stop hexing me. Take your filthy mind off me. I do not ever want to see you again.

There was a quiet comfort in being alone. It was not loneliness, nor isolation, but a state of complete freedom—where no one’s thoughts intruded, and no expectations loomed. In the stillness of solitude, the world softened. No voices, no demands, just the rhythmic sound of breathing and the steady heartbeat of existence.

Each morning, the sun rose without an audience, and each evening, the stars shone without needing approval. In this space, time was not a race but a companion, moving at its own pace, unbothered by the rush of others. Thoughts flowed freely, creativity blossomed, and the mind found clarity without the weight of unnecessary connections.

There were no obligations to entertain, no pressures to conform—only the pure simplicity of being. And in that stillness, there was peace. A life unchained from the noise of the world.