In music a rest is as important as a note, and the space between two words is the only thing that allows it to be readable. There is music in silence, wisdom in the spaces, pain in the cracks on the sidewalk. I hide in the clouds, grimacing against the brutal sunlight in a colorless mass you all so despise, but do you despise me? Can you hear my whimper between the rolls of thunder that stun you into silence? I am left to drown beneath the water, my very words drowned out as well by an endless sea that knows no pain, not true pain, not my pain. Never. There are souls crying, mind you, crying at the bottom of the ocean filled with saltwater and rain that tumbled from a cloud screaming with a voice louder than my own will ever be, and it is your very refusal to listen that makes us cry all the harder.