I think the older I get, the more I value the purity of silence. It's steady and soothing. It's calming and steady. Glorious. When it is quite I can just be in my head to think and to read and to plan. And that's what I wanted today. I just needed me time. Nothing annoys me more than when things force me out of my brain.
I didn't get that today. I got motherfucker machines making noise. I got sirens in the distance and children screaming and lawn mowers and all kinds of other noise that I did not wish to hear or care to hear. I just wanted silence.
I think most people are afraid of silence. I think they hate the idea of just sitting in a room and not speaking or being in a house without constant noise. I have neighbors who seem to believe that their lives aren't complete unless they are making as much noise as possible. It's almost as if some people believe that if they don't make a lot of noise or constantly run their mouths, they will stop existing. I feel sorry for those people. I feel more sorry for those who have to be around them.
The irony is, I think we find MORE validation in the moments of silence. I think if people would spend more time just being and less time making noise, they would find more meaning in their lives. Instead of babbling to hear themselves babble or screaming at the top of their lungs or trying to get someone else's attention or running some damned loud machine, they could find comfort in their own thoughts, contentment in their own minds.
They could also find that I wish less evil to befall them.
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