Silence From the World
Silence
Implode is out. For a moment, it feels like I’m onto something. Three thousand followers on Instagram. Two hundred fifty on Spotify by week three. All organic. Suddenly, I’ve got metal pimp visions ripping through my head: packed stadiums, bras flying like confetti, pyro blasting behind me, the whole nine yards. For five glorious minutes, I believe I’ve pulled off a miracle.
I even told myself: “Well, ok, maybe it won’t be my band, but the band I recorded…” LTFOL. I was already mentally packing for the tour.
“And then—silence.“
Not rejection. Not criticism. Just the cold hum of algorithms moving on without me. The ripple dies before it ever reaches the shore.
The irony burns. I drag five bleeding songs across the finish line, and the world claps once, politely, then turns its back.
“Silence is worse than rejection. At least rejection has noise.“
Now the EP just limps in circles online, like a wounded dog nobody bothers to look at twice. And I’m left replaying the same question: is this proof of life… or proof of nothing at all?