“Silence is one of the great arts of conversation� Marcus Tullius Cicero
Nowadays, it seems like wherever we go people always talk and conversation is everywhere. We feel the pressure to be constantly connected with others and to be part of this constant fast pace. As a result, some people end up with a great fear of being alone, but others end up forcing themselves to be always surrounded by people and activity just because it is what they feel that is the right thing to do. The psychologist C. G. Jung defined two different ways of reacting to circumstances, two different types of people: the introvert and the extrovert. The extroverts are the ones who tend to be assertive and dominant. They have a permanent need for company and usually prefer talking to listening. They are comfortable with conflict, but not with solitude. On the other hand, the introverts are the ones who tend to be quiet and cautious. They prefer to devote their energy inwards, finding themselves comfortable with solitude rather than with conflict. They usually listen more than they talk and they think before they speak. is a conversation between these two personality types. It wants to lighten the value of silence in a world that seems to be constantly in movement and to expose the needs and fears that each type has to face. Nowadays, the ideal self prefers action to contemplation and is comfortable in the spotlight. The extrovert has become an oppressive personality standard to which most people feel they must conform, causing an enormous communication gap between the two types: the introvert and the extrovert. broken white
The laces of your shoes are undone, but you don’t seem to care. This place is crowded and all of it seems familiar to me. It feels just like the other five thousand and forty times that I have lived it.
I can feel the energetic rhythm of people. Like a big orchestra, the sound of the footsteps walking up and down the cobbled streets. Playing at once, yet perfectly synchronized.
I like days like these, when gifts come in the form of every kind smile exchanged with strangers. But you are nervous and you bite your nails, as usual.
It all seems uncomfortable familiar to me. Full yet empty. People’s steps passing by, turning around, following a direction that doesn’t make sense.
Talking, talking, talking. Drinking quick and small sips of this warm coffee. Filling you with an extra dose of energy, enjoying the clumsy beat of the street.
LEAVINGN I am thinking why are we here. Why are we here when you look displaced, minuscule, lost. I really need you wanting to be here, to be together.
I must be using the wrong words. The right ones escape me. And you are further and further away with every passing second. The seconds lost on the way between your ears and mouth.
NOSPACE You raise your hand as if to say that you are not done. You have something more to say. The story is not finished yet and I know I don’t look comfortable. And I know that you are trying. I really do.
Maybe I should try again. But you look around, as if about to find an answer you had been missing. I hate it when you act like this.
And here you go. All laugh and big gestures: so loud. And you talk and talk. And I can feel how stinging, and bigger, and sharper the distance grows between us.
And the loud becomes louder.
You are quiet and still. It looks like you haven’t found the solution you were looking for. You never do. Maybe it is your turn, now.
1,
2, The coffee is gone and you look straight at me. Bright eyes, sparkle smile. But I know how much you hate this break, how much you need something to happen, how much I must say something.
You are just waiting for me. One, two, three. Waiting. Restless.
3...
I feel dazed and defeated. It is so unnatural, again. I see disappointment staining your eyes. Waiting for a quick response from me. It needs to be quick. Too quick.
I feel sorry, instantly. And I already knew that this was going to happen. You can’t make a sound. Even if I look at you. Gentle, tender, heartening.
W
You look yet so fragile, playing anxiously with the tip of your fingers, trying to put some words together. Break this blaring silence! This emptiness is so strange, so uncomfortable. I feel like you want me to speak.
A I T But you start again. And again.
The words fall out of your mouth, as if silence was meaningless between you and me. You can’t bear it.
I CAN’T ’ SA
AY MUCH
THEREISN
NOSPACE Noise is all you need: incessant steps, incessant words filling every inch of this already crowded place. People talking and laughing.
Walking faster, moving faster, living faster.
L I S But it doesn’t amuse you, neither. I have lost your attention, and I don’t know if I should try to find you again.
T E N
Silence, I need a white silence. Empty space. I need you to wait. I need you to be unhurried.
This silence is so noisy, so full of fears. I can’t get used to it. I can’t come face-to-face with it. I want the rhythm back.
FULL
N OT H
L OF I just need a gentle breeze, a moment full of nothing to start over. Full of everything to fill.
HING
Your breathing speaks for itself, even if you have tried to force it into a false calm.You have started to look at me. It is a matter of time before you start feeling annoyed, confused, impatient.
Don’t do that, please.
LOOSIN
NG Distracted eyes, sad smile. We can feel the strident thunders coming from the abysm under our feet. Why do we keep fighting? I can’t remember a time when we knew how to handle it. I just can’t, now.
Those distant days when we were flickering, loose, and simple. I can remember them. When a blank could be everything and enough. But it wasn’t really like that. We knew that lights and shadows were threatening us.
STILL
But we are still here, and maybe I should let you leave.
This is the moment I stand up and disappear. I disappoint you. I know I do. I leave.
This is the moment I let you go. I make you feel swamped. I know I do. I Stay.
This is the moment emptiness fills everything with nothing.
This is the moment I feel my feet running away, absent and rushing. This is the moment this frantic rhythm stops stinging, dragging me, chasing me.
This is the moment I have to see you leaving again, like you have done five thousand and forty times before.
The sound of the crowd feels nice from afar. So different from when I was next to it. My skin feels softer, clearer.
Achieving solitude, pleasant nothing.
is a conversation between two diferent personality types; the introvert and the extrovert. It wants to highlight the value of silence in a world that seems to be constantly in movement and to expose the needs and fears that each type has to face. Nowadays, the ideal self prefers action to contemplation and is comfortable in the spotlight. Consequently, the extrovert has become an oppressive personality standard to which most people feel they must conform, causing an enormous communication gap between the two types: the introvert and the extrovert. broken white