I don’t like talking sometimes.

I don’t like talking sometimes. Like not speaking anything at all. Quiet like a tree when the breeze is still. Quiet like a mannequin in a showroom. The silence feels peaceful. Silence outside, and within. Mind at rest from constantly forming words, from bursting out ideas, at rest from all the good-humoured, nonchalant, anxious, heartbreaking or heartfelt conversations. At rest from just thinking too much.

I don’t like talking sometimes. It feels peaceful. It’s like blending into your surroundings. Some parts dissolving in the walls, some in the ceiling, some floating with the clouds above and some drowning in depths of the lake. It’s like being present but disappearing at the same time. Quietly submerging in tranquility. Just letting the tongue sleep and the calmness sedate me. I believe if silence was a language, then it would be the most delightfully
captivating.

It would be a language of the heart.

5 thoughts on “I don’t like talking sometimes.

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