The soul is old. It gets pretty difficult to go back to loud, brash vivaciousness after crossing that fine line. What is it that is missing now? Or what is it that I have lost? Is this about losing or gaining something?
There seems to be no need for so much talk now - no need for all the superfluity, the excess, the words that dissipate into mere sounds. There is a calmness. And also a solitude, that sometimes blends into loneliness. In this singularity, silence can be brash too.
