I don't know which is worse: having nothing to say or having something to say but lacking the way to say it. Often times we can find more in what isn't said. It's like working with negative space in art. You have to look around and between all the words and see what the silence is saying. See what shapes the silence makes. Find it's tone and stretch and color. Sometimes I enjoy silence in it's softness and ambiguity. But silence can weigh as heavy as word.
I'm reading a book about the invention of wireless communication. It's fascinating to think that when you're talking to someone on the phone it's all a matter of sound waves being converted into electric waves that are being transmitted at the speed of light over distances and then being pieced together and de-jumbled and turned back into sound waves and that's how you hear someone's voice at the other end of the line. Even when someone is speaking right in front of you, it's a complicated matter of sound vibrations reaching your ears.
Silence is much simpler. Silence is the lack of all scientific this and that. It is simply nothing. But, as we all come to know, nothing is always something.
Can you figure out what I haven't said?
Ok, Freddy Jones, SHUT UP.