i usually dont do this, because it’s not the purpose of this blog. however i needed a channel to vent. this is just me writing. notice, it’s not meant for “artistic writing” or even “coherent writing,” rather its just tracking my mind going point to point. there’s no structure, no purpose, nothing like that. its just writing. i have no way to know who even reads this blog, so i’m not hoping for response by any means. response is more than welcome on all posts, but i’m not doing this for that purpose. again, i’m merely putting it here to put it somewhere. i dont even know how to explain it all.
“Be still and know that I am God”
silence is taking over
but its not impeding or imposing on my life
historically its brought good and bad
before interrogators and accusers.
by cliché, it’s deafening
i would argue that its “deathening”
i want it to end.
i want it to resolve.
the issue about never makes its way from my mind
i need it all to leave my life.
but not all.
parts I want back
not as it used to be, despite my desires.
i want it back, in a different form
to take the place of the silence filling me.
my silence is filled with conversation
between myself
between God
between others
between a wall.
anything
for years its something I haven’t known
i’m now suffering through the relearning
god’s called me to this time of silence
even though I argue with him about it
he and I both know its best,
hopefully other people see it too.
in the end it’ll bear its fruit
but the planting and watering is painful
not an unbearable pain
but a different one
a foreign pain I cannot explain
pain may not even be the appropriate word
but I cling to the hope that it will pass
that this is not forever
its already fading yet keeping intensity
i cannot explain the monster of silence
but to proclaim it was not by choice.
i cling to my rock.
this post serves no purpose
it has no point.
in no way is it art, but merely expression.
i’m no word composer or artist.
i just needed an outlet.
i just needed to speak through the silence
This work by Austin Walker is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
