Leo
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity.
Charles Dickens
The quiet you have been sitting in lately is not the absence of something but the presence of something you have not yet found words for. This kind of hush holds weight in a way that empty rooms do not. You can feel it gathering in the spaces between conversations, in the moments when you stop talking and discover that the thing you were about to say was not the thing you actually meant. What lives in this particular quiet is not waiting for an audience to become real. It has been real all along, patient and whole, ready to meet you when you stop filling the air with sound.