deafening silence

aloha! how are you kind people doing?

here's something new i wrote for my shnovel.

shnovel cos it isn't an actual novel, but, here we go :p

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The world is full of paradoxes and oxymorons.

Deafening silences.
Military intelligence.
Unbiased opinions.
Natural make-up.
Wars against terror.

And feeling like a stranger in one's own home.

As I lay here on my bed, on the covers I've owned for six years now, covers that I've outgrown, covers that aren't being replaced no matter how many times I ask my mother to – I listen to the sounds of "my family's" chattering and laughter.

Me not being with them is akin to me being there.
What difference does it make?

I keep waiting for someone to knock on my door, to wonder, "Where the heck is that girl?"
But my waiting is in vain.
Because everyone knows I don't belong there, with them.
I should know that better than anyone.
If I go out there, I'm only going to end up running back here.
The only place where I don't feel claustrophobic. The only place where I don't feel like a fraud, like a sore thumb sticking out. The only place where I don't feel like clawing my way out of my own skin.

Because in here, I don't have to be anyone. I don't have to play a part. I don't have to laugh at all the right jokes, gasp at all the right places, smile at all the right stories, I don't have to tell any of my own.
I don't have to watch as people scramble to fill empty silences with empty words.

In here, silence is the language everyone speaks in.

In here, silence has a sound. It pulses from the very being of the room, from the off-white walls…
It's okay, it whispers to me.
It doesn't all have to make sense.
You belong here.
And you don't even have to try.

-

fin.

so, tell me something interesting; i'm kind of bored.

p.s. i need a new website to post music from. the one i've been using sucks. i just found out all the stuff i posted before doesn't even play anymore.

what the cricket?

so yes. any suggestions would be handy dandy.

see you!

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