it’s so hard to get to a true silence. there is the silence of biking with no music but then there’s the traffic. there’s the silence of shutting off your phone but it’s silence is loud, it’s silence take up so much space that it isn’t silent. i depend on it. like what if what if what if. tell me when there’s a next Terrible thing. or keep it simple- just tell me i im worthy of being alive.
i have been thinking a lot about solitary confinement being torture. who the f am i to yearn for silence, to yearn to be alone. when i have the world. when i every door opens without checklists or permission or goals met.
it’s all in your thinking it’s all in your thinking. everyone has said. feed the good wolf, look for the lining, list three things in your gratitude journal every night.
but is it? i do all the things but a darkness comes for me still. paradox in the high afternoon full sun washing me out leaving me with a residue of what really was. i cant see anything objectively but yes yes right who can who can.
still. theres being present in the world with ease and there is being in the world in a blanket of thorns, unable to move to reach out to see anyone. i know that loneliness. every word feels like it’s been ffiltered and sifted and laundered so that when it comes out it doesnt say what you meant. you are far away you are trapped in this body.
the sun reminds me. my entirety resists the ascent of summer.