I came to the conclusion that all I ever do is talk. There was no taste for words in my mouth at that moment. So I sat up on my bed at 3am on a school night. I hear my mothers' pill bottles rattling and my father's almost inaudible snore. My sister sleep talks about her rough day at work and my dog exhales loudly as he changes positions. The fridge is buzzing and water drips outside as the snow melts. There is a high frequency sound coming from the charger across the room. The roars of cars from the express way and the whistle of the wind from my cracked window. Police sirens fade as they go farther and father. My bed frame creeks as I reposition my left foot. My ears ring when all sounds seem to seize. I got it. Something, I'm sure. Now I know why they say "peace and quiet." But that phrase is redundant because now I conclude that peace and silence are synonomys.