I divulge my time into words strung together; creating exceptional and interesting worlds, creating theories and ideas, or simply; expressing feelings. They float around us constantly, in different contexts forced to twine together. But when I amble near familiar faces, no words are uttered. Maybe a presence wasn’t notice, and therefor not acknowledged or maybe everyone’s tired like me. Tired of talking; of expressing. And as I place myself in my own company, curling in from the outside edges, it’s silent. The serenity of simple silence. There’s a sheer difference between trying and doing, and taking the leap to finally do, and it’s brushed under the mat. Everyone’s too focused in their own little worlds. Can’t say i didn’t try, maybe just not hard enough.