top of page
Writer's pictureIRis Janssen

My sound of silence...

WHEN A BLUERAY TALKS


...and breaks through years of silence


And when the sound of silence is growing in my life, is eating away every conscious moment, every thought and every cry. I stand there naked, no longer someone, who am I?


It's always darkness a so known friend, that comes to talk with me, softly creeps into my dreams and every day life. A voice from silence that every time gets louder. Spreading his seeds of doubt in my heart. Because my soul painted a vision in my brain that I started to believe and in this silence what I loved = became ego, what I believed = became a worry, what I followed = became no longer mine.


And when the sound of silence is growing in my life, is eating away every conscious moment, every thought and every cry. I stand there naked, no longer someone, who am I? In all those dreams that became more and more restless, I just was alone. Walking in silence in my own world. In my own thoughts. For me the sound of silence is more and more clear in the world where I belong.


Nature's cry is getting clearer when I am in her womb. She is my house, my home, my Goddess, the one who hears. In the summer endings, during warmth who isn't warmth. The silence is growing to a story, I never told. I am talking about not speaking, hearing about not listening, writing songs that my soul never dared to sing. Lost life that was never lived. In my heart there plays regret, regret for life that never is touched, never felt the softness of my own lips. Never felt the endless possibilities of jumping and flying in ever trusting universal surrender.


As Blueray of the moon I became thousand voices of the people, I kept my word and loved every one of them. In my own silence without opinion nor conviction. I gave up so much in return for feeling. For a reminder of my own star a home far away forgotten and lost in memories.

I want to break through the silence. This silence like a cancer grows, swallowed my personality, my inner child, my voice. Made me a shadow of who I am. Teared down my braveness, my youth. It created a mirror where I saw life passing by. As an observer I looked to the changes in the world. As an observer I got swallowed in the shadow of my own fear. And while I am writing this... I know it's not true, I lived life to the fullest, in the range of my possibilities. But while life crawls past, there is a feeling of being lost in all the experiences I didn't had, all the life I didn't lived.


And while I surrender again on this endless dark silence and my word like silent tears echoed in the masses. And the people bowed for money, technologies and devils prayers my voice keeps getting more and more silenced and absorbed in the walls of this prison that is called life. I am not a God nor a prophet but my word is as important, all the life that isn't lived by me will endless whisper in eternity.


In memory of SAM (Veerle de With)


33 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

コメント


bottom of page