The Eerie Silence
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	Everything around me is mute.

	Everyone tries to speak, but there is nothing to hear.

	On the very first moments of their birth until their younger years, they try so hard to practice the art of speech. They imitate the ahs and oohs and waahs and the patterns of mouth openings from anything and anyone around them.

	You can see it in their eyes and their distorted faces. It is their sole purpose in life. And on they go until their biological clocks reach this predestined time when suddenly, they would know how and why things are.

	Then they begin to speak.

	They begin to speak in different languages, each with its own distinct and similar manners and styles, each with its own accents and double-meanings and histories. They brandish their language as if they had created it themselves, like it was what made them human, what gave their existences meaning. They wear it proudly despite the fact that they all produce the same sound - to which they are so comparable.

	When they have become proud enough of their own verbal capabilities, they learn to use their tongues for finding ways on how to be the better of each other. How else can they prove their uniqueness, when all those around them have the same capability?

	They scream their anxieties, their wailings, and their miseries. They begin to search for allies, people with the same ideals, then take to the streets in a protest emulating landslides appearing as rolling pebbles, which later crash into a frenzy of randomness, ending up as scattered as they were before. They speak with such conviction that you would think them believable, despite the fact that their bases stand as formidable as sand castles against the tides. They even go so far as to create mechanisms to speak for themselves, from them creating so many ramblings that they would appear to speak fires and flashes of light.

	Then the dead follow suit. What once were silent now begin to speak in color and attempted intelligence, as they instill false life into things that never wished them. They have created gigantic effigies in which they live in, serving as towers representing revolution and change. As if sporting tattoos, they carry various materials that scream at you, buy me! or you are useless! They even seem to speak to each other.

	And me? I will not hear it - their hypocrisies and silent jabs.

	I will never hear them.