i enjoy the sound of silence.

some days while reading a book alone at home, i would look out my window staring into the forest, watching the leaves holding onto their beloved branches, knowing full well one day they will leave, a silent goodbye waiting to happen.

some days i look out the window, thoughtlessly, as empty as the gin bottle on the top of my fridge that sits there without any purpose apart from being.

i enjoy the awkwardness, the slimy gritty feeling that thickens the uncomfortable air around the silence in a room with more than one person. as if the room demands to be spoken to. as if the walls call for a sound to be made, desperately, the silence to be broken, like its debt to paid for the very act of inhabiting it.

i enjoy the sound of silence.

some days, when I am with someone i stop myself from speaking out loud the words that fill my mind. i try to float in the sea of silence that we've both now dipped in. i watch as the other person becomes uncomfortable with the unusual situation they find themselves in. for we are not used to silence. they didn't want to take a dip in the ocean. how does one get out now?

we are afraid of silence. lest the other person think I dont have much to say, that I'm not interesting enough, that my life hasnt been eventful, that I dont know myself well enough to form my own opinions, that I'm not worth talking to?

maybe I'm not. so lets sit in silence, for silence allows me to read the other person much clearer than the words they write or speak would, because most of what one says isnt who they are, its who they want to be.

..throwing words around like fistful of grains thrown to feed the birds on the roadside curbs. completely disregarding the power they hold, forgetting about the beauty of the very fact that the sound i make holds in itself centuries of emotions, feelings, meanings that can be conveyed, passed on, exchanged, understood.

…we take the words for granted…

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