Silence

I turn the volume down on the stereo slightly. This movie's squealing at me through it. The speakers whistling at high strange pitches. I can now hear the hum of the tv itself, and the chun-chun-chun of the tape turning in the vcr.

Now more aware, I notice the continuous hum of my computer sitting idle beside me. Ok, that has to be turned off. I follow and find more sounds. Out through the family room and into the kitchen I can make out the fuzzing the fridge makes and the rocks being tossed around in the dishwasher.

What sounds are we running from? What could we hear if we didn't constantly fill our ears with this machine generated pollution? Are there sounds we're intentionally avoiding? Distracting ourselves from what's right in front of us.

I return my focus to the movie, enough pop psychology for one joint. Just as I start to put my newly found sounds out of awareness there's a click and then nothing.

Something snaps and the power of hearing and sight slip from me. Complete silence. It's a rush of relief, a great sigh, that useless constant onslaught of audible information gone. That chunk of cheese in my skull usually devoted completely to filtering and sifting through it freed, it's first official lunch break. It's like finally getting the attention of someone after tapping them on the shoulder for twenty nine years.

What do I do now? What can I do? The possibilities flood through my cheeseblock and then wash away, returning me to the nothing. I'll do nothing. I'll keep it clear and wash myself in the silence. The complete and utter silence is all I focus on. Damn, this is great.

Then I hear it again, only backwards this time. A loud click, a whir and the sounds around me scream back to life as the power is returned to my part of the city. Fuck. I contemplate which pole I'd have to ghost my car into to get it back.