"Feelings are intense, Words are trivial"

You’ve always been here, and you wished to remain until the end. Did you want to come to me? Was I right about that? Eyes that glow, jawline that elongates and a body that shrinks. You often ask me if I can stay. You knew the answer. And I knew your answer to staying where you are. The subconscious has been active though. Makes it more eerily intuitive than expected.

Detachment is not escapism.

If you think silence is validation, laughter is agreement, or observation is weakness, that’s..... not surprising.

“It cannot be changed now. It is just part of the learning process.”

The mistake was clearly pointed out, and it was even acknowledged. So what stopped it from being corrected when it would have made a difference? When excellence has been emphasized across every area, identifying a mistake is not redundant because correcting it is inconvenient.

(Then the idea of vouching for one over the other becomes questionable. Vouch equally.)

Accept it, rectify it, and then move on.

“Yes, you are right, but I will only accept it if I see how you arrived there.”

Arrived where? At a problem setup that already had mistakes in it, which then had to be noticed and resolved on the spot?

When something conflicts with the concept itself, mind stops to resolve it. So the work that should have been done earlier ended up being done by someone else in real time. And when that person identifies the issue, it should not be treated as if they failed to work around it. There had been consistently impressive presence before this too, from deriving promptly to engaging constantly. Work spoke for itself.

“Content was shared across multiple spaces because it was already so close to completion. You can’t keep reminding people that there’s work to do while also updating them on every step. And yet, nothing was filled, even when it was near the end. Over 50% of the areas were left untouched. Some of what was done was handed over, like, fine, take it and move on. Some didn’t even show up. No one even bothered to read things properly, let alone understand how it all worked. In the end, everyone just fell asleep.”

Trying to stand with one foot on each boat will only stretch you thin, and worse. The less you give attention where it’s needed, the more you end up holding onto what isn’t.

How are you supposed to suppress the thought of fixing an extremely salty dish with an onion? How are you supposed to control the urge to wash just three pieces of cloth because otherwise they’ll stretch beyond the limit? Even four extra letters, in a moment where you’re already searching for pin-drop silence, feel unpermitted. Otherwise, the nostrils and eyebrows are ready to shoot up high. Sometimes, tone comes from disturbance itself, where a silent smile and a sense of resonance have to do the work. But enough. These tones carry some measure of hate, aggression, or vengeance. Eventually, you start losing hold of your own mind. Tone is one hell of a bone; it has to cut through the nerve. Thank God one knows how to inhale and exhale, or maybe that would be taught too. Let the old woman live on her own terms.

Either a complete shutdown, focusing only on what genuinely matters within your realistic scope, or a full-scale, high-impact burst can work, especially when it comes to things like driving change, testing trust, or understanding who’s helpful for real. In other words, either silence or a collective boom. The latter tends to dilute future attempts in the same direction, although it gives you clarity on what’s really going on.

Imagine if the consumer has to do the producer’s job, and the producer has to do the consumer’s. The denominator is already small, and if half the numerator is faulty within an unreasonable time span, this is not fun. The few people with genuine sense, grip, grit, and drive will drift from one thing to another, delve into what is wrong, and there is nothing wrong with that.

Well, maybe it is time to care about at least one element of how life feels: eliminating darkness within oneself. That is what knowledge means.

The most misunderstood ones eventually yield tears, and at some point, silence, especially when there is no scene and no sense. They deserve better.

 “If one starts, another does. This is gonna set a bad example!". What caused this though? It is rare that people in our lives do the whole “just wait until…” thing in a way that feels like they are trying to dampen our mood or trivialize what you’re venting about. And if you do, no one will see the years that led to it.

How should you start and end a sentence? How much emphasis is too much, even when what is being shared is good? How should you swallow words of strength when they are most needed? What should your tone be at every second of speaking, as if there is some polynomial equation for it? How should you stand, sit, sleep, fold your legs, cry, laugh, walk, talk, open up, and finally, just exist?

Risk and disc. It is not going to feel brisk. Those emptied entities coming out of the structure. Protrusion. Herniation. I broke down.

Silence is misunderstood. It is not the absence of sound. It does not mean keeping your mouth shut. It stays until truth is spoken. It can hold several thoughts at once while searching for resolution. It can listen harder than a million words. It is a watcher. It means your inner self is not drowning in అలజడి, and more importantly, not spreading that unrest into the world around you just to cause reckless ripples, especially where children breathe and age rests. This power is difficult to touch, but impossible not to feel.

Those who do the work, who quietly live the philosophy, carry a silence that clears the fog just so you deepen it once you start seeking an inclusive vision. It stands close enough to guide, and distant enough not to interfere. And you, like overflowing pots that remain contained, place every necessary act where it belongs, i.e. some in the open, where everyone sees, and others beneath the surface, where the weight lies.

The more you guide, the less you seem to lead. Subtle facilitation! A tuning fork as a lighthouse.

We do not excuse harm. But we understand descent. Understand that the world will not always come to save you, and so, perhaps, you act. Neither a hero not a villain. Maybe this is to finally see what we are doing to each other? But they will not repeat what was said. Why? Because it was senseless? No, because it was uncomfortably coherent and it pointed to things that are not supposed to be named, i.e. the cruelty of systems, and the invisibility of pain. In time, support will be reframed into “just good looks” to diminish the cause. Smokes and mirrors of the internet/media. It offers caricature instead. Why ambiguity and complexity that makes someone a human?

Humility feels unreal, yet real,

A silent root the soul can feel.

No less fertile than eternity,

No less still than serenity.

To lose what others wear with pride

Can carve a hollow place inside.

The aftermath may give no clue

Of what was useful, false, or true.

A blood-flood waits, but never slow,

It is no soft or feathered flow.

It moves through thought, through word, through vein,

Through choices carved by silent pain.

Veins in vain may turn to vane,

And learn the direction of their pain.

Perseverance, fierce and early,

Felt severe, immense, and worldly.

Silence is not limited to vigilance,

It is patience masked as diligence.

And if fear arrives to scare you,

Let it stay long enough to care for you.