The Sound Of Silence


After the events of the last couple days, and of the last few weeks in general, I went on a search for a place to find solace.Class is not one of them, so I did not attend classes today.

There are several national parks where I live, open to the public and free.Why I never explore them is beyond me.

But today I needed to be in nature. I needed to hear the trees talk to me and the moths tell me everything was going to be okay. The more I think about it, my manager from work is 100% right: moths are totally fairies.


I’m terrified of things that flutter. They are loud and erratic and stress me out. But if I think of them as fairies my fear dissipates. It reminds me of my childhood when a neighbor girl and I were obsessed with them. We went fairy hunting and bought each other fairy accessories (like magnets) with stories about the different types of fairies and the different types of good wills they bring with them. They watch over us, almost like little angels of nature. Ever since my stress has reached monumental peaks and I’ve been cracking at the seams, tons of fairy-moths have been huddling on my room door, outside of my apartment, and laying themselves flat all over my car.

There was one this morning that I talked to for a little while and he rode with me until the wind got too intense and he fluttered off to take care of someone else. They’re busy little creatures.

Anyway, I dragged my boyfriend and his sparkling white shoes and clean clothes into the dust and ruckus of the forest seen above. He hates when I do that.

The picture above was the main road because there are some people who live up on the tip of the mountain.But when you veer off onto the dirt paths through the trees there’s nothing but silence, fairies, rushing water, and the realization that life is more simple and beautiful than we let it be.



I go into the trees when I want to kill myself–not to kill myself, but to not kill myself. See how that works?

Nature and I have a special pact with each other. We understand each other on a metaphysical level. It speaks to me and I speak to it and we both realize we’re in this journey together for the long haul. I feel both good and bad for the redwood that stands for hundreds or thousands of years. That’s a lot of change, a lot of pain, and a lot of time.

As much as I would like to take a bullet to the temple, when I sit next to a stream and listen to the water and all the thousands of years worth of knowledge it has, and when I sit next to a broken stump of a tree twice the length of my 5’7 body, and listen to the pain it’s endured from tree rot or loggers or whatever, it all tells me not to take the bullet.

None of these feelings are gone. But I know the universe is there advocating for me if no one else is.

We came across a large tree stump that my boyfriend thought looked like a large bone of an animal. I said that was because trees are the bones of the earth.


They also–hold onto your hats–receive messages from the universe. That’s how I see it, at least.That’s why they talk to me in the silent way that they do, and they hug me in the non-tangible way that they do.

That’s why the leaves were as bright as they were today. That was a message in itself. That’s why there was as much silence as there was today in those woods. The universe knows where I am this moment, it always sees it coming before I do, and it’s sending its condolences through soft breezes and fairies across my car.

I have not recovered yet from my shutdown or my meltdown. Everything aches. My mental health and my physical health. I can barely lug this body around from my room to the bathroom and the nausea is killing me; it’s always the same. I do not feel well. My classes are suffering once more and I’m sick of falling into the same old cycle without any insight into why.

I might consult the trees again tomorrow morning, if I can wake up early enough.

Some people were walking their horses through the trails and I almost fell into tears because I could not give the horses a hug or a pat. Their eyes are always so telling and I know they had a message for me too, but I couldn’t get close enough to them. They were beautiful though.

I jumped on the tree branches, I climbed some, I sat in the dirt and I got us lost. We went further down into the depths of the mountainside, away from the residential main road where the real silence was.

An aerial view of the park, courtesy of Google Images. I’m probably someone in one of the grooves, swinging from a tree branch.

If we paused we could hear a creek trickling downstream and the distant hooves of the horses.

I feel bad I did not spend this time getting caught up on all the homework I haven’t done, as well as all the studying for my test tomorrow. I feel like I am an expert at wasting time in these frilly states of mind. But I also feel like they are necessary. They’re how I understand the world. They’re the only way I know of, besides hospitalization, that would keep me from blowing away my skull. They are the only reason I’ve never been hospitalized.

If I didn’t think the universe held me on a pedestal, I’d have killed myself long ago.

So the nausea is still rampant, both my hands are sore and a little swollen from all the hitting and punching and throwing things, my skin is irritated from all the self harm, and my mind/body is exhausted. My homework is left undone, my participation points in class have probably plummeted, and I’ll probably fail that test tomorrow.

But I’m alive.

I’m trying to figure out of any of this is worth the effort I’m putting in.

I’ve always wanted this blog to be informative. I’ve also always wanted it to be real. And this is as real as it gets. Fairies, voices of the universe, and a bullet in my head.