So it’s been a week of nothing spectacular, just my own perceived audience directing my actions, telling me what to say, when to laugh and sometimes I hear them laughing so I just laugh along. Or sometimes my imagination carries me away too far and the line between reality & fiction dissolves, that I overlap the two planes of existence. I laugh, because there really isn’t much left to say sometimes. Like a vessel empty of words, only trying to fill up the sound of silence that grows louder by the second.
Is that even possible, for something non-existent to continue growing; for the absence of sound to be a sound, itself?
Some are just worth keeping, no matter the circumstance. Nothing short of sheer ease & comfort; truth, with nothing to be afraid of.
With a cup of coffee/Chai Latte/Coke Light in hand, cheers to the last four years (and many more to come, please).