Silence

I've been thinking about different kinds of silence. These thoughts stem primarily from the fact that I am completely alone in my apartment for the first time since I returned to Austin, because LeAnne left for the weekend.

I used to have this kind of silent solitude almost daily last year. I resented it sometimes, especially at night, because I would have only my own thoughts to amuse me. Most of my thoughts last year were not particurlarly inspiring either. Sometimes I just wished to realize another person's presence in the room.

Now there are presences all the time it seems. Most of the time I don't mind them, but there is something incredibly restful about having a large comfortable space all to yourself and knowing that noone will come to disturb you unless you ask them for it.

Anyway, I guess what I'm getting at here is that silence can still be charged with all kinds of meaning. This concept is readily obvious in music; rests are just as important as notes in musical expression. Depending on who is in the room and the moods and relationships of the people in the room, silence has different feelings. Silence in the library among strangers; silence with friends in the room; silence knowing that your roommate will wake up soon; silence while alone--all are different.

Hm. At first I thought this was going to be an interesting topic, but now I think it seems self-evident and boring. The story of my life so far. Anyway, I like silence sometimes.