Silence hardly ever cures anything.
Silence allows evil people to believe they are right.
Silence allows wounds to fester.
Silence allows people to remain hurt.
Silence is only a cure for those who walk on others.
Silence allows them to rise without opposition.
Silence allows them to remain unchanging.
Silence is victory for them.
Silence is not a cure,
but it is not the disease either.
Disease would imply it is the cause,
the reason for hurt, sometimes it is, but more often it is not.
Silence is the denial of the disease.
Silence is the pain killer,
it makes your problems temperarily go away,
but you still know they are there
and eventually it will stop working.
sometimes silence is a cure-all after arguments
if we walk away before all our respect for the other is chipped off
if neither party is too loud
and if and only if
we've already hashed it out once
eventually silence happens anyway
after a peaceful truce, a polite ducking out of the room
“agree to disagree”
neither party puts up a white flag for surrender
but, in not-so-good cases,
someone slams the door
and leaves only silence behind them
it is a bandaid for an oversized wound
the bleeding stops, at least while they're gone
you cannot cut me open any further
in the worst cases, in fatal screaming matches
if you rip pages of old memories from your diary
and I pour out all the unatoned for mistakes like miles and miles of gasoline
the flames will get higher
if you kindle the fire, it will grow
but silence will happen
terrified and resigned, we will walk away
in opposite directions
or with all the energy spent poking and prodding at things
in the room that keeps getting hotter
we will sit down in the burning house
and let it swallow us
when we are no longer anything tangible
there is silence for those around us
the crime scene cleaners will have to come before anything new can be built there
new partners and children will not arrive until the debris is gone
they will have an exorcist come, too, to rid every bit of evil from the newly-built home
until then, there will be a sign that reads for every guest:
these walls cannot love without shame
cannot wake without funeral
even after we are born again, halfway across the world from each other
there is no more blood on the carpet, no strands of my hair are stuck in the shower drain
when everyone is asleep in comfortable sheets
I walk downstairs to double-check that the doors are locked
and I swear - I hear us arguing at the kitchen table
silence - in its most literal sense -
does nothing to stop the noise
and in that sense, it is like a disease
the incurable kind
Neither a Cure or a Disease, Because It’s All About Perspective.
Silence is a broad idea, and people may perceive it in many different ways. Silence may be a cure to some because by science, it actually lowers your blood pressure and improves concentration, as well as reducing stress levels in your body. Silence may be a cure to some because it's a way to drift yourself apart from conflict, and you can just focus on yourself instead of others. If silence is a cure, then it's also a form of healing. Tension fades away. Slowly stopping to care about other people's problems because you've always felt like you have to fix their problems in order for them to be happy. Silence is one, powerful idea because literally any form of emotion can pass by you, depending on how you perceive silence. Some people may feel glad. Or some people may feel unbearable euphoria. Others may feel angry and a sense of sorrow, because silence could also be noxious to some.
Silence could also be a deadly disease to most. Imagine yourself being in the other party. Your friend has suddenly ghosted you and never gave you a definite reason that they did, which leaves you alone. Forgotten. Lost. Twisted in incertitude. It's painful, because you don't know what you did wrong, and you may feel uncertain that they even enjoyed your company with you, which was why silence can also be back-stabbing, painful, and consuming. Like a deadly disease that you can't get rid of. If the person who had ghosted you has not said anything, it's most likely that silence is also a form of their answer to your relationship.
Silence isn't an answer to a yes or no question, but it's one of the most powerful responses ever created. Sometimes, words can't describe how they're feeling and silence would be their only way to respond. Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words. Sometimes, silence is literally how they're feeling. If you imagine a blank piece of paper, and the question asks you, "How are you feeling right now?", leaving the paper blank is a valid response. Sometimes, we don't know how to respond to such questions like that. Sometimes, a blank piece of paper sums up everything.
Silence is not only a cure or a disease, but also a response.
At the end of the day, there's no one-word answer to this. At the end of the day, it's all about perspective. It's all about how you perceive it.
Silence could explain everything and nothing.
Silence is everything.
is neither a cure nor a disease,
merely a tool,
to thwart or accelerate justice
at the whims
of its user.
it is a weapon,
bending to the intentions
of its wielder,
to end an argument
or start one,
to create suffering,
or manifest peace.
such is the way of tools:
not a cure
nor a disease,
merely a needle.
in the right hands, a vaccine.
but in another’s, a poison.
Stage four of seven: Anger
His kid is sixteen this year.
I heard the news yesterday, almost in passing. "Oh, did you hear about Patrick?" the conversation opened.
"Oh, right. That guy is a dick."
"The fuck you mean?"
I checked his Facebook. He posted the day before yesterday, a happy, smiling, goofy picture. I've never liked the guy, but he has decent family that I'm friends with, including his dad. Hell, his dad has hosted me more than a few times in the places he's lived, from DC to Moab. We've crawled bars and crawled rocks in his Rubicon.
Eric is Pat's younger brother, and he's my friend.
Eric is now the eldest sibling among the three who remain.
Pat's kid turns sixteen this year.
Pat decided he didn't want to see the kid turn seventeen, and now a teenager gets to deal with that bullshit from now until he checks out. The term "trauma" is tossed around so much in certain circles that the label turns my stomach, but I think this time the shoe fits. That poor kid, man.
Silence and unanswered questions will always echo when that son thinks about dad. Is the quiet the cure, or the disease? I guess it doesn't really matter, since the screaming silence is now all there is.
I believe firmly in the right to determine one's own time is up, but goddamn, Pat always was a dick.
Some things will never change.
Diseases Can Do Good
Silence because the words won't come
After any loud sound
It's gladly found
It's the saving grace
of my noise sensitivity
Yet also the enemy
of my selective mutism
You can have too much of a good thing
as Simon and Garfunkel say:
silence like a cancer grows