Jerry’s Annotation Marginalia VIII — The Still Frequency
There are days when peace doesn’t roar. It hums. A low, steady tone that doesn’t ask for permission or praise. It’s the kind of quiet you don’t notice until you’ve bled for it— until you’ve walked through enough noise to know what stillness really costs.
The world keeps mistaking silence for sadness. It can’t comprehend someone who doesn’t need to shout to exist. But some of us learned the hard way that calm isn’t the absence of emotion— it’s the mastery of it. The ability to breathe while everything else vibrates off-key.
I used to think happiness meant volume— laughter, movement, proof. Now I know better. Happiness, when it visits, doesn’t knock. It just sits quietly beside you, lets the AC breathe for both of you, and reminds you that peace was the goal all along.
So when people ask why I’m so quiet, I just smile. Because they hear nothing— but I hear everything I fought to protect.
— Jerry “The Ankle Biter” Silverhand · Tribunal Chair & Frontline Negotiator, Dept. of Petty Affairs
· Glitch Council Liaison (Codename: The Raccoon with Receipts)