10/25/19

Silence is a strange thing.

It's can be both empty, and too full.

A silence can contain nothing.
No feelings, just peace.

It can be a comforting nothing, one that beckons to be filled with your own ideas.

The silence of nothing can be too much nothing.
It can be frightening in its emptiness, making us question its silence, and what it may mean.

Silence can carry with it the words just spoken.
Words that were, hurtful, sweet, or sorrowful.

The words spoken on the air leave a imprint that can be felt even after the sound of them is gone.

That can make it comfortable, or anything but comfortable.

I, as a general rule, hate silence.
But I also crave it.

Sometimes I reach a point where the world is a spinning top, and I'm having motion sickness.

The words that are being yelled from around me start to sound like background noise.

And the my inability to focus is being caused by three peoples' incessant tapping of their pencils.

That's when I want nothing more than to curl up and close my eyes and wait for the overwhelm to leave. When I want the silence to carry away the panic, and wash away the fuzzy edges all the overwhelm left behind.

I want that silence
but it never shows up.

Which is why for the most part I hate silence.
Because it doesn't come when it's wanted.

It comes when your alone.
Or when you can't think.
Or when you can't feel.

It adds to a previous emptiness.
Silence insists on only adding to nothing, instead of taking away from something.

It sits there and weighs you down.
Making the blankness in your head even more heavy.

It creates a need for noise, that noise doesn't actually fill.

It's penetrates the noise we want, and leaves us with a stagnant, lonely reality.

They say you can never experience silence.
Because there's always a noise to be heard.

The breeze as it brushes by leaves.
The sound of someone's breath.
Your own breath.
The blood rushing through your veins.
Your own heart beat.

We can't experience silence
at least in this life.

Silence is a cruel sweetness.
Always wanted for, but when actually had leaves a bitter aftertaste.

It's a friend that betrays you when you need them most, and shows up when you want them least.

And that's why I hate silence.
It doesn't like to be filled.
It doesn't like to help.
It only likes to hurt.