Seven

It surrounds you. You are encased in a warm shell of sounds. Wether you are sitting on the bus, waiting to arrive at your destination or sitting alone in the dark trying to start essays you should have finished days ago, it is there. You know it. It is in the laughter of your friends and the tapping of pens on a desk. The threads of these sounds wind around you. Wrap yourself up in it and keep yourself warm. Take comfort in them, they are familiar, they are reassuring. Don’t take them for granted, one day they may leave you.

There is sonic pollution and there is aural ecstasy. One sounds something akin to nails down a blackboard and the other could just be the voice of the person you adore most in the world. I want to be that voice that somebody longs to hear all the time. Don’t we all?

It is even there when I sleep, I just don’t hear it. Tick tock, tick tock. The squeaks of a settling house. The screeching of hinges when doors are opened. These are the sounds that lull me to sleep.

I am woken by sounds. The alarm rings shrilly, the radio announcer tells me that it’s six-thirty at a very loud volume. Good morning, sound. What shall we be hearing today?

All throughout the day, it follows me. Idle chatter from other students float past my ears, wind rustling the leaves. On a winter’s night, the rain will beat heavily upon my roof. On a humid summer evening, the crickets will chirp and the sound of beer bottles clinking against each other will invade the night.

There is never silence. I don’t want silence. The day that there finally is silence will not come, I hope, for a very long time.

This entry was written on May 14, 2007 by Charlotte Crown. It is about/includes mentions of music. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.