fading contours
fading contours recently i learned that not all silences have to be filled. one would think an introvert would be more familiar with this truth but there are some days when my ears feel like holes, not openings. the silence deafens and i feel unarmed and naked against this echoing lack of meaning. i’ve only ever learnt to write letters of apology addressed to these silences, questioning the shadows of vulnerability that suffocate me ever so often. but not all of these silences have to be filled and the ones i do choose to fill - because it is, indeed, a choice - need not be met with words. this is what i’m afraid of: invasion. rigid boundaries, permeable boundaries - do these really mean anything different? is it not part of being human to be made and remade? to be invaded by others’ problems, to be burdened and burden? to make space and to take up space? the other day i was reminded that SPACE — the faraway building that hangs somewhere between a classroom and a cinem...