note to self-soothe

Silence can only be weaponized against those who don't have all the words they already need, right inside of themselves.

That is the writer's escape hatch. You can push her down into a quiet, dark place where her hardest, most fatalistic thoughts can just fucking have a go. Eventually, though, she'll come to her own defense. Out will come the pen and paper, and she'll stack word upon word upon word until she's made a ladder to climb up on.

The words never fail to fix. The pieces can always be puzzled through.

There is no disarming a writer whose weapon is invisible and timeless.