Wednesday, July 11, 2012
TOO MUCH NOISE
The sound of traffic on the James River Freeway: drivers steering cars and trucks to their destinations at 60, 70, 80 miles per hour, all of them doing Something Important, at least in their minds.
People outside their apartments, letting the immediate world know their business: "You tell him I'm thu. You hearin' me — I'm THU with his sorry ass!" Her adamant proclamation is followed by the sound of a cell phone being flung to the ground.
People inside my head, telling me what they need: Spend time. Stay away. Talk more. Talk less. Why are you ignoring me? Why are you talking with me?
Annoying noise in the night. It is almost impossible to sleep; the dissonance is distracting, driving me to contemplate other alternatives. How would that bottle of ZzzQuil taste with whipped-cream vodka? Got any Benadryl? Can you successfully mix this with that and create slumber?
I refrain. I've been down that road enough times to know it leads to no good end. Even the idea of overdoing and overdosing holds no allure. Instead I drink a glass of water, sit in the dark, and wonder why old friends now seem loud and annoying. Their company fills my time. Nothing else.
I walk through the days and get the job done. Happy? Sure. Fine? You bet. I laugh at someone's joke. My actions are socially acceptable. That's all that really matters to anyone. I'm fine with the deception.