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2 entries this month
Gone Without Sound
14:45 Jul 30 2025
Times Read: 70
It always starts the same way.
The messages slow down - once steady, now sporadic. A day, then three. A week. Then nothing. No goodbye. No reason. Just silence, wide and vacant like an empty hallway where a door used to be.
I’ve watched it happen enough times to know the rhythm. The ones who say they’ll “always be around,” the ones who call you friend, who promise time or presence or understanding - most of them are already halfway gone when they say it. You just don’t see it until they’re not there anymore.
At first, you make excuses for them. Life gets busy. They’re tired. They’re dealing with something. And maybe they are. But people make time for what matters. For who matters. And silence speaks louder than most words ever do.
The worst part isn’t the distance. It’s the dishonesty. That quiet betrayal of someone who said, “I'm not going anywhere” only to vanish when the words actually come. No confrontation. No closure. Just absence. Just... deletion.
It’s hard not to take it personally. Hard not to wonder if you talked too much, felt too deeply, or simply became too inconvenient to keep around. And it lingers - the way you hesitate before reaching out to anyone new, the way you start to apologize for your presence even before you speak.
Friendship wasn’t supposed to be this fragile. But these days, it feels like everyone’s just passing through... temporary warmth in an ever-colder room. And maybe that's what annoys the most: knowing how rare it is for someone to stay.
Still, I don't chase. I stopped doing that a long time ago. If someone wants to vanish, I let them. I archive the thread, not out of bitterness, but because I know how it ends. It's always the same ending, just with different names.
No explosion. No closure.
Just silence… and the ghost of a "friendship".
Static Between Stations
18:14 Jul 03 2025
Times Read: 122
It hit me today - how quiet things have gotten. Not just around me, but within me.
There was a time when everything hummed with a kind of energy. Ideas. Conversations. Late-night rabbit holes into game theory, deck tech, story mechanics, philosophy... whatever I could dig into just to keep the current flowing. I used to chase the next spark like it mattered. Like it meant something. I don’t know if it ever did, but it felt like it did.
Now, the noise is softer. Like a radio tuned just between stations - no clear voice, just static and faint shapes of sound. Something trying to come through, but not quite making it.
I find myself rereading old notes. Projects I started, then let go of. Things I’d brainstormed for the store. Layouts. Floor plans. All still there, waiting, like they haven’t realized I’m no longer moving toward them. Sometimes I tinker with the idea again, just to see if it still feels warm. Sometimes it does. Sometimes it’s just paper and a name I liked once.
There’s a kind of mourning in nostalgia... not for what was lost, but for the version of myself that believed it would happen. That person felt more certain. Less dulled around the edges.
But I’m still here. Still keeping the lights on. Still watching the creators I’ve watched for years. Still reading, writing, adjusting the same things I never really mastered. I still keep my decks close, even if I haven’t shuffled them in weeks. It’s all still mine. Just quieter now. A little more static than signal.
That’s okay.
Maybe not everything is meant to be loud forever.
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COMMENTS
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FadedRxses
22:30 Aug 07 2025
So well said, I hope you can find real friends that stick around someday