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What Kind of Shape Does the Silence Have?

The silence is an odd thing that can fill a room or fit into your hand. It can be the presence on your chest as you try to get words out that aren't yet formulated in your mind. All the while your mind is steering you towards keeping that presence on your chest, keeping that silence, because no matter how eloquently worded it still loses it's meaning. It loses its meaning and turns into that silence that lets you know that your mind was correct in directing you to refrain. So what kind of shape is it? Its ambiguity is what makes it unique. It's what makes the difference between a smile and tears. The silence is something that you can wrap yourself in, a quiet blanket of solitude that simply is, and it can leave you in a room filled with people feeling achy and alone. It's ambiguity gives it the loveliness of a doubled edged sword that you hope will always be held by the hilt and your hand doesn't slip. For me, the silence, even at its loveliest moment when I have nothing but the companionship of my own breath, is the shape of the unknown, another ambiguous being that shrinks and grows and fades and looms and taunts and loves and fucks like nothing else...

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