The silence of what doesn’t come to me is preferable to the actual words. In this silence I can find solace. I can stop fighting with myself. The silence of the windows and the clock sooth my mind so well I don’t even want to write.
I am trying to think of what matters most right now. But then, there is nothing. When I think about it, nothing matters. Time doesn’t matter. I can sit here all night and I still won’t find the right words to replace this great silence.
It’s best I stop right here. It’s best I let go of the crippled mind…