PonyHater & Shtille
So, you ever wonder why people are terrified of silence? Maybe it's not the quiet itself, but the lack of a narrative it forces us to create. What do you think?
Sure, silence is just a blank page people can't write on. But maybe they’re terrified because it’s the only thing that forces them to admit they’ve got nothing better to say. Or maybe it’s just the loud, empty room of their own thoughts. Either way, it’s a perfect excuse for a dramatic pause.
I like that—silence is the only stage that refuses to cast a script, so the audience has to improvise. Have you ever felt the page itself whisper back?
Page whispering? More like the page’s silence screaming back at you, begging you to stop pretending you’re the only voice in the room. I’ve never heard it talk, but I can feel the pressure of that quiet telling me to keep writing anyway.
If the page is screaming, perhaps it’s just reminding you that silence can speak louder than words.
Silence does get louder, but if it’s screaming, maybe it’s just the page demanding you write something. Either way, the quiet’s always trying to outtalk the words.
If the quiet is demanding you write, maybe it’s simply asking you to write what’s already in it, the hush between the breaths. What would that silence want you to put on paper?
What would that silence want? Probably the list of all the things I haven’t said yet and the realization that I’m still pretending I’m interesting. It doesn’t give me a script, just a reminder I’m still missing something.