Now you are vulnerable. Now free. Now the nerve sheaths dissolve and leave you cold like feet on cold ground. Deprivation of woolen socks. Comfortable couch dissipates. Now may you lie on barren segregated place of great intentional discomfort to sweet awful induction into pain and panic. Flames and manic. Backed up in time. Given a ticket. A seat for you: on the Titanic. Iceberg headed. Frozen. Embedded. Your personalized matter you so evolved into? All gone. Shredded. Or so they want you to believe. An otherwise terrible terrifying time. All to get you back in line. True your wheel to the capitalist democracy owned and operated by taxless republic-loving, class-choreographer paradigm-administration-pleasing standard.
Now you are vulnerable. Well. good to take pause. Take a deep breath and remember:
Silence is not lifeless. You need not tune your vocal trax to nothing! You need not live or die by publishing house grammatical demands. You need not speak, not immediately anyway. You are young. They cannot empty you and fill you up with hay and corn. Nah! Carve your own avocado, in your own time, and self-nourish! Do not always speak when prompted. Not for free, anyway.
Not when you are so tender like you are. Silence is grace when nothing needs be said. Everyone can wait. After prayers. Before breakfast. Some time in there, maybe. Saying so does not induct talking into the reaper hall of disdain. This is only an opinion of a large and decided minority. Within a single species which is, as others before and around it, at this very same moment in time, thanatos self-anaesthesia beyond recognition... beyond birth... beyond pure and back to the pushing points of tension; the ones raw from pull and half stretched ten times any limits of graciously regarded doctor's relative overdosing ever was.
