Silence is the keystone in my life. It is the builder, the modifier, and the end result. It is the constant. It is a bit like Zero. Anything multiplied by It becomes It. It is undefined in division. It is the representation of Nothing, but It has more meaning than almost any other thing.
Everything returns to Silence. How can Nothing be so prevalent? How can Nothing be so important? Humanity chases the Silence of past generations and declares It history. Humanity chases the secrets hidden in the Silence of space. We always end up in Silence, one way or another. Perhaps It is the proper order of things. Who am I to resist?