the art of communication in silence

[erhothwen]

While on the way to a Thai restaurant (♥Thai pride!), I was talking to my family from the passenger side. My father said that I had been talking roughly lately. He said I would mess my voice up if I kept clutching the air at my throat.

I think talking gets harder and harder for me. Sometimes I wish I was mute. But that's an awful thing to wish for.

The art of communication in silence is quite swell. However, I have yet to master it, and even if I did, I'd probably just end up talking to myself. Which is what I do in my head already.

What is wrong with me? I love being social and now I can't talk. I don't have anyone to listen to because they want a response from me when they tell me a story and I act like I'm dead to the world or something. A gaping fish. Someone who's constantly tired when in reality I'm not. Zombie. I think I hurt people's feelings.

Everything I do say out loud is a replication of what I've already said before. Replication. A vocab word. Echo.

♥♥♥
A stuffed animal will never judge.
A stuffed animal will always love you.


Replication. Echo.
Replication. Echo.
Sandpaper throat.
Sandpaper throat.
The tiger lilies are dry & dead.
The tiger lilies are dry & dead.