Notes From the Wasteland No. 8 ‘Is silence the worst thing you can hear?’

Is silence the worst thing you can hear?

What do you think?

When you look at someone and all you hear is nothing.

When you ask the darkness something and get no reply.

When you hope against hope to hear (from someone) but never do.

Silence.

The sound of your skin hardening. Your ears healing over. Closing through neglect. Never to reopen. Sealed forever. Bound with the grim whisper of the tomb. Skin and bone combine to fuse and form a permafrost.

The small scald of neglect, that daily burn upon your skin when the absence of attention you expect but hope against occurs once more again. Once more. As before. And again.

The words here are like the mirror that used to hang somewhere in the house but has long since removed yet every time you pass the spot where the mirror used to hang, you still look to see your face but find yourself not reflected anymore.

When you walk the world knowing that no one has anything to say to you today or any other day. You could walk the same path with the same steps for several lifetimes and be safe in the knowledge that only silence will accompany you.

Perhaps that’s a comfort.

Some people prefer solitude. The simplicity of silence. Of not having to engage. Ask. Joke. Laugh. To share.

Some people prefer to ignore those that surround them. That fill their space. Perhaps for fear of making that space a shared one? For, they might argue, who wants to share their space with anyone? As if intimacy is a pathogen only worth disinfecting; like washing your hands instead of stroking their face.

I’m sure these people find this act of ignoring others liberating.

Others find this same act terrifying.

I know where I stand. What about you?

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