There’s a revolution to be had in our moments of silence. What has your existence become if you’ve compressed your core being to just your persistent speech. Your thin shrill voice should not be inherited into this earth. You will never listen- that’s why you don’t know the burden carried by a tree, or what brings joy to a cricket or even the growing pains of your own bones. But what’s to expect When your voice only grows louder as another sound infiltrates your hearing field. Enough to not ever be able to find out your standing in comparison to this world or perhaps just enough to allow my snappy judgment over who you are.