Listen Linda

In this world vulnerability does hide behind irony, every joke is a fragile heartbeat wrapped in gauze. People laugh, not because they are careless, but because it’s the only way they know how to carry what hurts without breaking. The intimacy isn’t absent. It’s just disguised. And it becomes a mask. And the irony becomes a different choreography the graceful spin to avoid eye contact when emotion threatens to overflow. So, we learn to speak sideways, and dance around the truth.  But I’m not a fan of that. That isn’t good communication. However, a lot of people would much rather learn the choreography. Rather than just saying how they feel about something, someone, someplace, anything for that matter. That must change. If one doesn’t speak up. No one knows. If one doesn’t express themselves? Then no one is going to understand. And then it goes back to misconceptions, miscommunications, accusations. This has turned friends into foes, lovers into haters, and we already know that the masses are assess. And in this heat, I am exhausted. As I am sure most of you are too.

This kind of clarity is the kind I feel could slice through fog with fierce grace. In my opinion. And this, in my own belief, is a silent epidemic of our time. Where we can be fluent in sarcasm but illiterate in sincerity, And when expression falters, connection fractures. The dance around the truth becomes slow unraveling, and before we know it, we’re strangers to the people we once held with open hearts.

This choreography, as elegant as it seems, leaves anyone exhausted. Because behind every carefully placed “I’m good” is often an unsaid I’m grieving. Behind every aloof shrug, a trembling want. And when no one speaks plainly, we’re all left reading shadows instead of substance. It’s a dangerous kind of silence dressed in motion. Such a charade.

It’s braver living I’m after. One where we risk awkwardness for honesty, where vulnerability isn’t masked in glittering irony but held gently. Like a sacred bridge between isolation and intimacy. It takes a certain type of something of a soul to choose a path like that. Especially when the world rewards the opposite. But maybe it starts with one voice daring to say, “This is how I feel.” no mask, no metaphor, but just straight up truth. Why not? What’s wrong with being honest? Wouldn’t that be like lighting up a torch in a dark room?

I would much rather start a rebellion against remaining silent and masked emotions, than none. It’s speaking truth, inviting truth to answer back…and that’s how change, growth and new beginnings begin. It’s not with grand declarations, but with an honest voice that refuses to disappear beneath the irony… once we stop dancing around our hearts, we start living from them. The misunderstandings begin to dissolve, bridges rebuild, and suddenly, connection feels less like a minefield and more like coming home. Let’s keep choosing the unmapped, unfiltered road—where the conversations run deeper, where gestures mean more, and where our truths can land softly without having to wear a joke just to get through the door.

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