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{Editor’s Note: Warning: adult language ahead!}
The Sound of Nothing Happening
Have you ever hit that two a.m. moment—
staring at the ceiling, replaying yet another thing life decided to drop on you…
like somewhere, someone shrugged and said,
“Ah, she can take one more.”
Because we’re only given what we can handle, right?
Yeah—no.
Respectfully…that’s bullshit.
I’ve had my fill.
I passed my limit about 293 disasters ago.
I’m done being the one who “gets through it.”
Done taking hits, cheap shots, and calling them lessons.
I don’t want resilience right now—
I want relief.
I want a break.
A real one.
From the chaos.
From the madness.
From the kind of situations that sound made up when you try to explain them—
the kind that leave people shaking their heads, wondering how any of it is even real.
They’re not alone.
I’m still trying to figure that out too.
So don’t come knocking—
I won’t answer the damn door.
You can peek through the window,
I’ll shut the blinds.
I’m done.
No more challenges.
No more problems.
No more disasters.
No more “almost.”
No more “maybe.”
I don’t want to push through.
I don’t want to rise above.
I don’t want to prove anything anymore.
So here it is—
call it a prayer, a wish, a desperate little plea thrown into the dark—
Time-out.
To whoever’s listening,
to whatever’s out there keeping score—
I’m tapping out for a minute.
Give me something soft.
Something quiet.
A little sunlight… hell maybe even a rainbow if you’re feeling generous.
Because your girl?
She’s done.
Kaput.
Finito.
The tank is empty.
The matches are gone.
Even the lighter won’t spark.
I’m calling it—
time-out.
I want peace.
Even if it’s just for a minute.
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