The Less I Speak

I was not in the mood last Friday morning during Math class, partly due to what we did the night before. Zaim, Meri, Tiger and I got bored, so we decided to compose our own acoustic songs. The acoustic session was all spontaneous, with the awesome playlist of songs ranging from "A Song For Aimi" (which is Tiger's favourite), "Roggy and Jalani" and not forgetting "The Ex-Girlfriend" by Zaim, dedicated especially to his, ahem, ex-girlfriend. Then when we concluded, it was already 2.30am. And I had not done anything productive at all that night.

Back to math class. Both Tiger and Zaim didn't come to class that morning, but I somehow managed to make it in time. But I was so deprived of my sleep that it spoilt my mood. While Mr Mahadzir was explaining the solutions to the class, I stayed quiet, eyes on the white board, my mind wandering off to God knows where. Even Abu's jokes and occasional funny gestures seemed lame that moment. There was very little interaction between me and the rest of the class. However, it felt good, this splendid isolation. For once I listened more than I talked.

Then it got people worried. Or so I presumed.

"Is he okay?"

Later that afternoon, me and my bestie had a conversation about relationships. Sure, what a topic to talk about over a 5 minute break from Econs revision at the RC. It actually dragged on a little, but in the end she did make me realise something which I failed to notice all this while.

I always thought that silence is easy. No things that may be said accidentally that should be apologized for, no stupid explanations. Just silence. And time that will eventually heal all wounds. Because the more I speak, the more vulnerable I get. But little did I know that while it may have prevented me from saying all the wrong things, it actually puts me in a situation where I'm often misunderstood. Well, based on my life experiences, she's probably right. Silence is not always that easy.

Maybe I shouldn't be standing on a silent platfrom that often.