Silence has become my solace. I seem to have transcended the cozy confines of vocabulary into an impasse of silence. I've reveled in it, nestled in its loving arms like a nomad finding a home on the hilly terrains he traversed. It used to be silence clamping down upon biting sarcasm and pungent criticisms threatening to launch themselves from the tip of my tongue at the rogue rancour people emit, the accidental animosity, misdirected malice, grandiose narcissism and fondness for nit-picking. Now I choose silence to shelter my own insecurity, silence to shield me from the glare of pseudo-intellectuals, the critics and the know-it-alls, silence to nourish the raging conflict between materialistic desires and creative urges, silence to defeat the waning of my own mind. Silence to break the monotony of my own voice, silence to resist the urge to scream, silence to swallow down the bile that rises when I watch them say one thing and be another, silence to help me breathe, silence so I can pump life into my blood for another day.