iamtala

I get a call one night. It’s from an unknown number. I hesitate before answering, my finger hovering over the screen. It’s strange to hear someone reach out when you’ve become so used to silence. But it’s not for me. It’s for someone else.

I’m an expert in observing. People don’t know they’re being watched. I watch their habits, their interactions, their laughter. It’s fascinating to me—how easily they slip into their roles. How easy it is to fade away when everyone else is too busy being seen. 

There’s a strange comfort in being alone. No one to disappoint. No expectations. Just the space to think, to breathe. At times, I wonder if I’m running from something, or if I’ve just mastered the art of solitude.