Novel & Cerita What You Do Speaks So Loudly

Focus, woman! I force my gaze away from that ghostly figure, trying desperately to focus on my speech. Somehow, I’m getting better at public speaking—maybe being the CEO of a well-established company has honed those skills. Not that it didn’t take some massive effort on my part. I can’t even recall how many times I’ve messed up and how many countless hours I spent practicing. I even crack a joke, a breakthrough that makes me feel invincible in this triumphant moment of conquering my fear.

he rebukes me in a subtle threatening tone, I know he wants to keep him calm. I'm curious why you care to hear my answer. Because, if he told me that talking can change this situation, he would be able to find the strength to utter a word, but I know it's not like that, talking has improved nothing in my life. "Speak Now! I demand that you break your damn silence!”

“No one will hear you.” Fuck, what have I done to myself?

He hissed half a laugh to break the silence. "I don't ask for your answer now. Just act, as usual, nothing will be changed. I will still be your 'cruel-annoying guy'." He uttered half a high, a smile etched on my face. His eyes were on me. The place was filled with loud sounds that signified that the intramural was officially started. I could hear the unison of screams from some of the students.

You cannot encounter disharmony that no one can speak, but you can pass by unaffected. This is our dream. This is our belief. Remain silent in speech. Let words think deep. Speak to the storm. Let there be then a war between you and disease. You win, you win. You for cannot give in. You for cannot doubt yourself. Even if you know you have a real limit, you need to shine. Shine is also of the bread that speaks little but fulfills life need.

Don't regret your silence; Share the language of your heart.

It was in this moment that I spoke. Not loudly. I did not raise my voice or adjust my register for effect. I spoke the way I spoke in rooms where I had something to say that was worth the saying — evenly, with the quiet clarity of a person who was not asking for the room's attention but was simply in possession of it.

I at least thought that our meeting could be pleasant, but unfortunately, that's not meant to happen. I tilted my chin, letting my words fall deliberately, “Do you really think presence is proven by how loud one can bark? Do you think brilliance shines because you scream it in everyone’s face?” I took another step closer, the distance between us crackling with tension, “No. True presence is quiet. Unshakable. It doesn’t need to announce itself.”

I spoke the true name. Not loudly. Not as a command. The way you speak the name of someone who has been lost and is within earshot. The way you speak when you want to be heard but not to impose. With the full honest weight of what you mean and none of the strategy around what you want in return. The room responded.

“I vow to never again let fear—yours or mine—silence me,” I said. “To listen when you speak, even if what you say hurts. To fight for the ones who have the least voice among us, because I know too well what it is to be spoken over.” I took a breath, the last words heavier than the rest.