I used to spend my life tip-toeing quietly, terrified of the possibility that I might disturb someone or something in their respective states of peace. To me, silence was the best gift a person could offer.
I thought existing as a deep serene was what others might want from me—a faint, little thing that could slip into your life without a sound, and leave no waves in the process. No one likes a burden, you see.
Now, my footsteps land heavy and crack ground that they’ve always assumed to be solid. I hope the Earth caves under the weight of my existence, like it is more monumental than every star in the sky.
And when you hear of an earthquake so grand it breaks every scale we have ever come to accept, know that I have finally reached my full potential, as I was always destined to do.
