I thought the silence meant healing.
But it turned out to be a grave I was digging with my own absence.
People stop asking, readers stop checking, and suddenly you start believing you never had anything to say at all.
But silence is a scream in reverse. And I’m here again — to write like a wound that won’t scab, to speak even if no one listens.
Entry #5.
Not to impress.
Just to survive.
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