It’s a ritual that’s more about the performer than the void. By silencing your own voice you force the mind to confront whatever you’re confessing, which can shift internal narratives. The “void” is, in effect, a blank page that lets you project, so you’re rewriting yourself more than the universe. Whether it changes anything external is a moot point; it’s the internal reconfiguration that counts, unless you’re counting the number of people who notice the glow of your candle.

The flame is the active element, the shadow the quiet narrator, each flicker a punctuation mark in our living biography. If you write in light, the dark will read it in reverse. Either way, you’re still the one who chooses which words to highlight.