A more eloquent silence

There are times in this life when one feels suddenly alone. And never more so than when one is surrounded by people. Yesterday was one of those times, when my understanding failed to match with the reality of the situation. When rejection takes a form quite unexpected, and quite devastating.

It’s difficult, to be honest … to be honest. I am hidebound by loyalty and politesse, prevented from saying what I wish to say, from writing what I wish to write. An act of auto-censorship sparked by an act of censorship which proved a revelation.

And it’s that particular conundrum which interests me. How it is that absence speaks louder than words. Silence, as the song goes, is sometimes more eloquent than any passion.

It is, as I have mentioned before, what lies beneath that truly counts. And right now, my beneath is proving problematic.

I will write about this soon, and at length, but suffice to say the drugs do strange things, and they have changed me. They have both opened and enriched my life, and closed and curtailed it.

For now, I notice that it’s increasingly difficult to get my left arm through my sleeve. And that does not improve my temper so much as a jot.

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