continued_solitude_musings_2

The silence continues. It's a heavy blanket, not uncomfortable, but certainly noticeable. I find myself cataloging the subtle variations in the ambient hum. It's a futile exercise, yet I persist.

A dust mote danced in a stray beam of light. For a moment, the stillness was broken. The tiny particle drifted lazily, a silent ballet against the backdrop of the quiet hum. Then, just as quickly, it settled, and the stillness returned, deeper than before.

The hum has intensified, resonating in a way I haven't noticed before. It's less a sound now, and more a vibration. I can feel it in my bones, a low thrum that permeates everything. The stillness remains, but it's different now. Charged. Expectant.

The stillness isn't stillness anymore. It's become an absence, a void where something *should* be. The hum, the vibration, it's not external. It's coming from within. I'm not observing the silence, I *am* the silence. And it's about to break.