In reading some of my favorite blogs today, my friend Jo's blog struck a cord within me. If you haven’t read it or have not yet been introduced to Jo, please read her blog. She is a brilliant writer and far beyond what I am capable of writing.
Thanks to Jo, I began to think about how many people have the uncanny ability to speak the truth. I’m not talking about “does this dress make my butt look big?” After all, we want to know whether we should venture out in public looking like a complete fool. Right? There are people who blurt out the truth without fully understanding the consequences of how it may be received. I completely understand that the truth hurts and that truth may be obvious to each of us, but do we really want it out there by the people you love?
What do you think? Do you want the whole truth and nothing but the truth from your family and friends? Or do you want The Sounds of Silence? Or something in between?
And with that said, I just had to list the words to one of the best songs ever. Thank you Simon & Garfunkel.
Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again,
Because a vision softly creeping,
Left its seeds while I was sleeping
Within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of
A neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more.
People talking without speaking,
People hearing without listening,
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence.
Fools said i,you do not know
Silence like a cancer grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Take my arms that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
In the wells of silence
And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon God they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning,
In the words that it was forming.
And the signs said, the words of the prophets
Are written on the subway walls
And tenement halls.
And whispered in the sounds of silence.