the kind of silence i will relish in, is one which permeates with an air of inexorable understanding, despite the lack of utterance
perhaps the lack of words is the crux of comfortable silence: maybe words will never be able to do justice to pensiveness that can only be sent through telepathic brainwaves & retrieved through the wired arteries leading to the heart
// class camp tomorrow, let us all fall in love with the idea of reading 'age of innocence' under a blanket of stars
(my heart sings when i'm around like-minded, unconventional people)
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