silence n. \ˈsī-lən(t)s\
And silence is poisonous. Each succeeding moment makes me weigh my thoughts more and more precisely. In Proverbs it is written: "Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise." You don't have to live very long to learn how foolish you are, and not much longer than that to know you'll always will be so. It is the safe bet to keep quiet. But thoughts left caged in my head grow treasonous, form alliances against me, convince me to leap off bridges and sell my heart to a scrap metal dealer. A river needs an ocean. I need to write.
But silence, like death, is necessary.