Beautiful.

What fears the silence is the nervous beast that dies in silence.
Light bounces of of trees and mountains to land in our eyes and inform us of the shape of things, but a perfect reflection is a looking glass... this shows anything but itself, and even shows us ourselves, if we look at it directly.
One cannot see a mirror.
A perfect reflection is that way.
Consciousness is a hall of such mirrors. It is an echo chamber made of looking glass, and in that chamber is a beast which will, recoiling from its self, will not pass through such a glass.
This twitching beast, which is all resistance, fears silence because silence is freedom... and it's end.
It fears time, as well... for that is its other end.
Still, I love it.
I am glad to know it.