If silence could kill… I’ll be a burn victim every time we talk

Thursday

If silence could kill… I’ll be a burn victim every time we talk

Exchange of fighting words is a crucial art of survival to some. When we are hurt, we just want to hurt the other as well. Is it a defense mechanism.. To hurt another then to be hurt. To mask our anger and pain, we inflict the pain unto others. When did we stop just making fun of ourselves? When did we stopped enjoying falling down and hurting ourselves silly (wait, did we ever do that?)

Cry like as if your heart was ripped apart from its roots and thrown on the side of the street. Laugh harder than ever like a hyena as if the master tickler who looks like a stand up comedian draws his nose out of a joke has tickled you silly. Stop trying to sit properly, because it is a just a mental image of a culture within a certain environment that thought us what’s right and what’s wrong.

Can you slap me silly, scream the hell out rather than be silent on the line of the phone. It bugs every inch of my nerves like a blowfish dust was spread all over my skin. Make me numb. It is painful; I writhe in every pause and silence you make.

Gosh, don’t call me just because.. Call me when you want to, not because you are obliged to as you clear your throat on the other line rummaging through your head to find something to say. Disgust me.

Why is it an uncomfortable silence? We call it an awkward moment. Why do we feel the need to say something to make the company bearable – or in other words comfortable… Why the need to crap, when we can hear our own thoughts.

Just because... Sheesh.. F*** you for that.

xoxo
Rollo Tomassi