Halycon

It's really funny, on account of how loud a person I am, but I really like the quiet.

I like to be in quiet rooms or in quiet spaces. I also like the dark, because it's more quiet than the light, don't you think? I like silence and soft music and warm feelings, quiet, lulling things. The irony of this is that I'm a walking vuvuzuela, loud and spastic and, well, loud. I like sitting in dark closets and just listening to myself breathing and thinking, 'Wow, it's so loud outside of this closet, and so nice and quiet and safe in here'. I like ears better than mouths, and I really love water. More than touching it, I like how calm and quiet water is. It's why I like baths over showers. In a bath, I can put my ears underwater and listen to the faucet and the sloshing of the water and how quiet it seems to be. Warm and soft and silent water is lovely. I also like the first moments when you wake up on weekend mornings, waking when you tell yourself to, not to an alarm. Those moments are so quiet. They're comfortable and easy and friendly, yours and still and sluggish. I also like autumn, because it's the only season that's really silent. It's a transition between the brightness of summer to winter. It's beautiful and new and inviting, and I love it. I love hugs, too, because they're special and close, but they're also gentle. Not like handshakes or kisses or what have you. And Christmas morning I adore. My world stops, still, breathless, thankful, touching, quiet. I just love quiet things.

Toodle Pip.