I’ve spent the entire day ignoring this blank page. It has antagonized me from the bottom of my screen as if to say, “see! I told you. You can’t really do this after all.”
Yes. I’m painfully well aware that paper can’t talk, but lately I’ve been expected to interpret silence at every turn and in every aspect of my life: work, friends(?), my personal relationship. I told someone the other day that I’m much better at interpretive dance than interpretive silence.
I’m a words person. Silence is completely meaningless to me… a blank, much like this page was… until my second cocktail of course!
Cocktail #2.
Yep. Pretty sure I’m beginning to understand. With a bit of the edge off, silence feels a little like the Universe is participating in a game of CYA (that’s cover your ass for those who live outside the world of the perpetual acronym). Okay, Universe… what have you done? What are you hiding? Do you think if you sit quietly maybe I won’t divulge what I already know? Ba! Best of luck with that! You’re not that clever, and hiding behind a curtain of “look how harmless I am” isn’t going to prevent me from sending out the hounds.
Cocktail #3:
So what if I AM drinking alone? Whose business is that? I also happen to be working out while I enjoy my adult beverage. The panting and gulping satisfactorily camouflages the fact that the silence is getting really loud.
*turns up music* “Hey, I put some new shoes on and suddenly everything’s right. I said hey, I put some new shoes on, and everybody’s smiling, it’s so inviting!” I can’t hear you, silence! I got my New Shoes song on!
Cocktail #4:
Now what? It’s probably dinnertime. I dunno… I stopped watching the clock shortly after 5AM on Saturday last weekend. What does time really mean when you’re not actually working? Feels a little like I have nowhere to be and all night to get there.
*listens for something outside of buzzing head… nope… nothing*
Well, I do enjoy consistency. I like being able to count on things. It makes me comfortable in an otherwise very uncomfortable world. It reminds me of the same discomfort you get from a beautiful pair of shoes you really really want to buy, but somehow have the inkling you’ll never wear because, ultimately, either you or they just don’t belong.
*sings* “One of these things is not like the others! One of these things just doesn't belong!”
Cocktail #5:
Maybe I’ll go to bed. The silence isn’t so noticeable while unconscious. I’ll read 20 more pages only of Midnight Sun in hopes of lovely, colorful dreams; tuck in the puppies; then let the silence envelope me. I can rage against it again tomorrow!
A good friend of mine recently lost her husband and son in a car accident and she told me the worst part was the silence. She said it reminded her in a tangible way that she was alone. Really alone. So she said she went to the park and watched the children playing and laughing every day and it eventually healed her. I guess the lesson is to go and find your own noise. Or heck, make your own! No one can stop you from being the noisemaker and it might even be appreciated. If ever you need me to, I'll gladly make 'noise' with you. It's what friends do, right? No one should have to stand in silence alone.
ReplyDeleteI miss your noise, Lisa Jones! And I miss all the noise we made together! Oh balls!
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