silence.

these grad school weekends swallow me whole. it’s not the tests or the stress or the unending litany of things to do. it’s the nights alone in the hotel room. the walls are oceanic, crashing in and pulling me under; drowning me in their silence.

one gets accustomed to noise. there’s a certain comfort in it. it holds you tightly, sometimes too tightly, and sweetly tells you that you are not alone as long as there is nearby sound.

silence is less of a pacifier. it tells you nothing and everything, without a breath. you are alone. absolutely alone.

the night will come when I'll find peaceful comfort in this solitude. but it is not this night.

this night the silence has teeth.