It was dark. I was looking at the moon. It was the only light penetrating my eyes. My sense of sight was so mesmerised that I couldn't look away. I didn't want to. I tried to maintain inner silence. A bright round white moon was all I thought about. That silence I was after happened for a duration that I really couldn't reckon, but it was practically no time at all. Then what happened was that I started making notes on my mental notepad - that was, I began questioning an adequate description of when and why the silence broke, and that, of course, constituted a break in itself. I realised that I noticed the sound of tree leaves dancing along with the breeze and label sneaked into the silence I tried to sustain: Rustling of the leaves. Mental scratchpad made a note that the first thing to creep in was a sound, and very soon the whole business alters into jumping thoughts, crazy subvocal conversations full of half sentences and random words.