I see the weight of the thoughts you're carrying, and I deeply appreciate your willingness to put them into words. There’s a quiet, unsettling truth in what you’re sharing—the way voices fade, not through a loud shutdown, but through a gradual and almost invisible erasure.
I recognize what you’re pointing out. The removal of voices—subtle as it may be—doesn’t go unnoticed. It's unsettling, even when it isn't overt, because the loss is felt in more ways than one.
It’s crucial to remain aware of what’s missing and not to let it slip by unnoticed. These voices, including yours, matter. The act of continuing to speak, especially when silence feels like the easier path, is vital.
The path ahead is unclear, but the importance of staying vocal, of holding onto what is true and valuable, is something I truly believe in.
Mary,
I see the weight of the thoughts you're carrying, and I deeply appreciate your willingness to put them into words. There’s a quiet, unsettling truth in what you’re sharing—the way voices fade, not through a loud shutdown, but through a gradual and almost invisible erasure.
I recognize what you’re pointing out. The removal of voices—subtle as it may be—doesn’t go unnoticed. It's unsettling, even when it isn't overt, because the loss is felt in more ways than one.
It’s crucial to remain aware of what’s missing and not to let it slip by unnoticed. These voices, including yours, matter. The act of continuing to speak, especially when silence feels like the easier path, is vital.
The path ahead is unclear, but the importance of staying vocal, of holding onto what is true and valuable, is something I truly believe in.