[HM] Pat Benatar lyric
Maybe it's a sign of weakness when I don't know what to say
Kutner hates silence.
He knows there are times when silence is necessary, and that he should keep his mouth shut, but silence was always a sign of bad news. The long, pregnant pause right before the gut shot was the favorite tactic of the state troopers who had told him that his parents were dead, as well as the social worker who was trying to explain that since he didn’t have any local family in the area, he was going to be placed in foster care. Silence reminded him of times he’d rather not repeat, and things that needed to be said that weren’t. Silence was clearly the enemy.
That was most of the reason why he wouldn’t shut up a lot of the time.
He rambled to fill the space, almost as though to delay the inevitable. He talked even when most times he should have just shut up, he talked when he knew for the fact that it was sounding stupid-he talked because it was something to say. A lot of the time what he said was neither relevant, nor an attempt to make sense, but it was something. He’s like to think it was comforting. And it was certainly less awkward than silence.
He knew most people thought it was annoying.
Actually, he knew probably everyone thought it was annoying.
As far as he was concerned, he could live with that. It was either you’d rip it off like a band-aid, or you talk them to death, either way-sometimes it was just easier to talk about the lack of George Lucas’s inspired genius in a person’s life, rather than the fact that they’re dying and he didn’t know why. It was easier to talk about himself, his likes, dislikes, experiences, and take the focus off that person and their own. It was easier to trust them, let them know he sympathized with them and their situation, rather than try and analyze the words they didn’t say in the silence of the exam room.
Talking was just easier. And the day that he didn’t have something to say? He was going to be very, very worried.
360 words
Kutner hates silence.
He knows there are times when silence is necessary, and that he should keep his mouth shut, but silence was always a sign of bad news. The long, pregnant pause right before the gut shot was the favorite tactic of the state troopers who had told him that his parents were dead, as well as the social worker who was trying to explain that since he didn’t have any local family in the area, he was going to be placed in foster care. Silence reminded him of times he’d rather not repeat, and things that needed to be said that weren’t. Silence was clearly the enemy.
That was most of the reason why he wouldn’t shut up a lot of the time.
He rambled to fill the space, almost as though to delay the inevitable. He talked even when most times he should have just shut up, he talked when he knew for the fact that it was sounding stupid-he talked because it was something to say. A lot of the time what he said was neither relevant, nor an attempt to make sense, but it was something. He’s like to think it was comforting. And it was certainly less awkward than silence.
He knew most people thought it was annoying.
Actually, he knew probably everyone thought it was annoying.
As far as he was concerned, he could live with that. It was either you’d rip it off like a band-aid, or you talk them to death, either way-sometimes it was just easier to talk about the lack of George Lucas’s inspired genius in a person’s life, rather than the fact that they’re dying and he didn’t know why. It was easier to talk about himself, his likes, dislikes, experiences, and take the focus off that person and their own. It was easier to trust them, let them know he sympathized with them and their situation, rather than try and analyze the words they didn’t say in the silence of the exam room.
Talking was just easier. And the day that he didn’t have something to say? He was going to be very, very worried.
360 words