Why I’m Done Talking to Everyone Forever
Exploring the silent rebellion of isolation and self-preservation.
It’s a curious thing, isn’t it, this pervasive silence? The gnawing desire to disconnect, the overwhelming urge to be left alone, away from the maddening crowd of voices. Is it normal? Perhaps. Or maybe it’s simply an inevitable response to the hollow noise of existence. Conversations become a racket of empty syllables.
The faces that populate your days blur into an endless stream of forgettable strangers. People talk, but they don’t say anything. Words, like brittle leaves, fall, crumbling as soon as they touch the ground. And you — perhaps like me — are left there, sifting through the remains of those words, wondering if there was ever any point in engaging at all.
What’s the use of pretending that connection is fulfilling? Let’s face it, most interactions are not bridges between souls but rather hollow echoes bouncing off walls, failing to land anywhere meaningful. What’s worse is the way society insists on socializing, glorifying it as the pinnacle of human achievement.
The more you pull away, the more the world seems to tighten its grip, whispering that something must be wrong with you. But is it wrong to desire the absence of others, to retreat into the fortress of your own mind?
