But what if I began to speak?
The mess of noise that exists in me, would it quiet?
I value silence, and thus say nothing.
And I like it this way; seeing plenitude on the face of those who have nothing to say. In silence is there no chatting?
I think that is a mistake.
I value silence, and thus say nothing.
But my thoughts scream.
Sometimes they revolt, quiet themselves and then become agitated again.
And this is what I do in the sea of silence.
I drown, until the calming comes.
Sometimes it doesn't. A tsunami does.
Words come out of my mouth uncontrolled.
And even so, for others, it seems like I continue in silence.
So, I keep it for myself.
I keep for myself things so obscure that maybe if I told you I would be heard.
I value silence, and thus say nothing. I fit in silence and stay there,
as long as it takes.
But what if one day I scream?
Scream as loud as I can?
I am sixteen years old and in the 11th grade at Edem High School in Rio de Janeiro. I write to express myself, to impose sentiments, whether they are positive or negative. To explain why I wrote this text: I understand art as being closely related to political questions, and I, as a Carioca in today's world, being indignant with the government has become routine. And if we can not expose all of these wrongs to human rights this will continue to be absolved. I write so as not to explode, I write to take note of all of the absurdities. I write so they are not forgotten. Every form of writing is valid, I also identify with drawing and theater. Image created by author.
