Why I stopped talking
The old me would’ve apologized for making this sound sanctimonious and condescending, but I realized that it was pointless to explain myself.
Trust me, though, when I say that this is not another deliberate contrarian article from this site that seems to populate our inboxes these days.
Sometime after I began minimizing my environment was when I began writing my minimalism blog.
It was also during then I began minimizing a lot of what comes from my voice.
If you’ve ever felt what I write here is minimal, then you’ll be even more disappointed to learn that I barely say anything in real life, if we ever met.
A lot of the failures in my life were covered up by lots of excuses.
It seemed like I was in a never-ending cycle of failing whatever I set myself to and then generating an excuse for that failure.
I gave advice, I talked to friends. In the end, however hard I tried to get my context across, I still got misunderstood by the people I least expected. By people I needed most.
I am not an inarticulate speaker, so it wasn’t a matter of learning to say the right thing, in my case.
I later realized that breakdowns in communication are simply the course of nature.
In the end, it all seemed like nothing but a big exhalation of carbon dioxide; it wasn’t doing anything but depriving people around me of the ‘oxygen’ they actually needed.
There was no value in complaining about or explaining my life, because people only ever listen to their opinion of you.
No one cares.
I’m not stepping back from life, I’m just choosing to observe more than spout the shallow words off my tongue.