Good morning,

At least, I shall assume it is morning.  Alas, morning seems like the most fitting time for this letter to begin, as it is the beginning – the genesis, if you will – of this little blog. It would hardly seem fitting for the start of the blog to begin at the end of the day.

No, it has to be morning.

So if you happen to think that you are actually reading this at night, please accept my apologies. But you are wrong. It is morning.  At least until you have finished reading here, at which time you may return to believing that the time is as your clock says it is.

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes.  Good morning, and welcome to “… of the silent,” this tiny, little, insignificant blog about quiet people.

Now, some have asked, “Why should you write a blog about people who do not like to speak?  Isn’t that self defeating?”

To which I have responded, “Whatever do you mean?”

To which they have replied, “People who do not like to speak.  Speaking to the world wide web.  In rather long-winded rants.  Does that not mean that they do like to speak?”

To which I have acrimoniously replied, “I said quiet people. Not people who do not like to speak.”

You see, the truth is that nearly all people like to speak.  It is just that some people do not like being heard.  At least, that is, while they are present.  Because being heard means having response. And having response means conversation.  And conversation means awkward pauses.  And awkward pauses mean thoughts of hanging one’s self from the little scraggly tree in the backyard, not because it is the most suitable option – no, it would be much more effective to hang oneself from a large oak, or hickory, or perhaps a pine tree, were there no further option, but none of these are available, because you live in town, and driving to the woods to commit suicide is altogether too devoted an exercise for such a boorish ending as death.  So instead, you imagine yourself laying on the ground, the pathetic, gangly tree in your front yard bent double at the strain of the rope about your neck, unable to end your life because it is so pathetic, but instead serving only to remind you that you have still not been able to escape this conversation, and oh… God… here goes another awkward staring contest.

Yes, this is the blog where the quiet people talk. Quite openly and without sacrament.  Unafraid, because you can stare at the computer screen all as awkwardly as you want… They won’t see you.

They’ll be picking out a tree.

Author, “… of the silent,