Silence — 76

This post is part of Project: Inception, written ~8 years ago. It has been untouched from its original, pseudonymous, form. It is also part of the larger “farewell” tour and countdown as I turn-off this blog and head to the metaverse where I will live out the rest of my wonderful days. I hope to see you there!


The most turbulent times are the ones where I find myself isolated and alone. These moments are strange because I fight for them so desperately as the world stays busy with their little lives and demands that I join in on all the action from time to time. I’m not interested in the world and all that it has to offer so I’d much rather sit alone and do my work hoping that people notice the big Do Not Disturb plastered on my back (my head, my arms, my legs, etc.).

But in these times my mind can go haywire and it’s tough to keep things locked down. There’s an interesting signal to noise ratio that must be in play so that I can stay relatively calm and not agitated and striking this balance can be difficult – I’m not sure how to account for it nor do I know how to quantify how much signal I need to noise and it’s even hard to qualify what needs to be in the equation soup to make it happen.

Silence allows my mind to wander, to process, to perform. It allows me to seek the depths of a challenge or even my own soul. It allows me to deconstruct the day or my application or my relationships. It allows me to escape to faraway places that are safe and I even allow myself to enter into places that would be considered dangerous. It’s in these moments of silence where I can receive clarity; it doesn’t guarantee peace though.

The highs are high and the lows are low. But the silence is necessary. I think strongly toward Simon and Garfunkel and their song Sounds of Silence which my mother would play when I was younger. It sums up much of what this post was going to be about and I’d rather sit and hum this tune than write any more words:

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
And the vision that was planted in my brain
Still remains
Within the sound of silence

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence

And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence

“Fools”, said I, “You do not know
Silence like a cancer grows
Hear my words that I might teach you
Take my arms that I might reach you”
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
And echoed
In the wells of silence

And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming
And the sign said, “The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls”
And whispered in the sounds of silence

Thanks mom.