Ramses sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands. They were calloused from the push-ups and pull-ups he had grown accustomed to, stronger than they had been in years. Yet, despite the progress, he felt a restless energy coursing through him. Physical exercise had provided a sense of purpose and structure, but now there was an ache in his chest that even a grueling workout couldn't satisfy.
It was the need to create.
The thought startled him. Ramses had never considered himself a creative person. His life before the freeze was focused on survival—getting through the day without collapsing under the weight of his anxiety and depression. But now, in this timeless world, with no deadlines or societal expectations, he realized there was room to explore parts of himself he had buried long ago.
He glanced around his apartment, searching for inspiration. His eyes landed on a dusty box tucked away in the corner of his closet. Ramses dragged it out, coughing as the cloud of dust dispersed. Inside were relics of his past—old notebooks, photographs, and a small acoustic guitar he had bought during a fleeting attempt to learn music in high school.
He pulled the guitar out, the strings dull and lifeless from years of neglect. The wood felt cool and smooth under his fingers, and for a moment, he hesitated. I'm not good at this, he thought. I never was.
But something pushed him forward. He found a cloth to wipe down the guitar and tightened the strings, strumming experimentally. The sound was rough and uneven, but it wasn't unpleasant. Ramses sat cross-legged on the floor, holding the guitar awkwardly, and began to pluck at the strings.
At first, it was frustrating. His fingers fumbled, and the notes clashed, creating a discordant mess. But Ramses wasn't the same man who would have given up after the first few failures. He was learning to embrace imperfection, to see progress as a journey rather than a destination.
Hours passed as he experimented, his confidence growing with each small victory—a clear note, a simple chord, a rhythm that felt almost natural. The act of creating something, no matter how imperfect, filled him with a quiet joy.
Painting the Frozen World
The next day, Ramses felt a pull to continue exploring this newfound desire to create. As he wandered through the frozen streets, he noticed details he had never paid attention to before. The way sunlight streamed through a crack in a building's façade, the intricate designs on a street vendor's cart, the expressions frozen on the faces of strangers.
He stumbled upon an art supply store, its door slightly ajar. Inside, the air was still, and the shelves were lined with paints, brushes, and canvases. Ramses hesitated, feeling like an intruder in someone else's space. But the world was frozen, and he had no one to disturb.
He grabbed a small canvas, a set of acrylic paints, and a few brushes, carrying them back to his apartment. Once home, he set up a makeshift workspace by the window, where the light was brightest.
The first stroke of paint felt awkward and clumsy, but Ramses pressed on. He decided to paint the cityscape he had seen that morning—the frozen streets, the rays of sunlight, the quiet beauty of the stillness.
As he worked, he lost track of time. The act of painting was meditative, pulling him into the present moment. His strokes became bolder, his colors more vivid. The canvas slowly came to life, a reflection of the world outside but tinged with his own perspective.
When he stepped back to look at his work, Ramses felt a sense of pride he hadn't experienced in years. The painting wasn't perfect, but it was his. It was a piece of himself, captured in color and texture.
Rediscovering Joy
Over the next several days, Ramses alternated between music and painting, immersing himself in his newfound hobbies. The guitar became a constant companion, its strings no longer foreign but familiar under his fingers. He learned simple songs, humming along as he strummed.
Painting, too, became a daily ritual. He explored different styles and techniques, letting his intuition guide him. Sometimes he painted landscapes, other times abstract shapes and colors that reflected his emotions.
Through these creative pursuits, Ramses began to see the frozen world in a new light. What once felt like a lifeless prison now seemed like an endless source of inspiration. He started carrying a small notebook with him during his walks, jotting down ideas and sketching scenes that caught his eye.
One afternoon, he sat in the park, sketching the statue of a man frozen mid-step. The detail in the man's expression—a mix of determination and weariness—struck Ramses. He realized he wasn't just drawing the world; he was learning to see it, to appreciate its nuances and complexities.
The Courage to Try
As Ramses delved deeper into his hobbies, he began to reflect on why he had never pursued these passions before. Fear, he realized, had always held him back—fear of failure, fear of judgment, fear of not being good enough.
But in this frozen world, there was no one to judge him, no one to compare himself to. The only voice that mattered was his own, and he was learning to quiet the critical inner dialogue that had plagued him for so long.
Ramses decided to try something new: combining his hobbies. He painted while listening to the music he played on his guitar, letting the melodies influence his brushstrokes. The result was a series of abstract pieces that felt deeply personal, each one a visual representation of the emotions he poured into his music.
The process was freeing, a reminder that creativity wasn't about perfection or recognition. It was about expression, about finding joy in the act of making something.
A New Perspective
One evening, as Ramses sat in his apartment, surrounded by his paintings and the soft hum of his guitar, he felt a sense of contentment he hadn't known in years. The hobbies he had once dismissed as frivolous were now a lifeline, a way to connect with himself and the world around him.
For the first time since the freeze, Ramses didn't feel trapped. He felt free.
As he looked out the window at the still city, Ramses realized that he was no longer waiting for the world to change. He was changing himself, discovering parts of his identity that had been buried under years of fear and self-doubt.
And in that moment, he felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope.