I like to be alone, I like complete silence, I like to be enveloped by stillness and quiet. There are times when the need to be alone is so absolute that I wake up at 3am just to have a few hours of silence before I must get to the train to get to work, to leave my quiet behind in order to be filled up with other people's noise. I love 3am for the quietude that it imparts, for the stillness that comes even before birds decide to start chirping, for the deep darkness that comes before the dawn. It inspires me, it helps me to cope with the noise of daily existence.
I am sensitive to sound, to the cacophony that humans make unwitting: sneezing and laughing, crying and walking, humming and whistling tunelessly. I dislike it when people feel the need to fill their space up with sound so much so that it intrudes into my space - loud TVs, constant music or talking or even all of the above at once. I know a few people that can't manage silence. It makes them nervous, visibly. I can't fathom this - I can't fathom the need to hear something every waking moment, the need to fill a hole that may or may not be caused by an actual lack of anything. The imagined desolation that people think about when they hear the word "silence" is a place of comfort and calm for me. My demons are as loud as everyone's - or I suspect that they are, at any rate - I suppose that I have learned to appreciate their own unique music better than other people tolerate theirs.
I have become very attached to having time alone to enjoy the silence (someone please break out the Depeche Mode....) that I create. I haven't had a lot of it in the past few days - the husband is on vacation and home 24/7 - and I'm a little worse for the wear. I've had an attack of the sick, which I believe is related to the fact that I'm lacking silence. It's vital to my well-being, you see.
I can't imagine needing to fill my head and ears with sound, but many others can't imagine filling theirs with silence. Because I am in the minority, I will hold on to 3am tightly as a gold coin. It's treasure to my ears. No talking, no babies crying, no people pounding up and down the stairs, no dogs barking...just a velvety deep silence.
I am sensitive to sound, to the cacophony that humans make unwitting: sneezing and laughing, crying and walking, humming and whistling tunelessly. I dislike it when people feel the need to fill their space up with sound so much so that it intrudes into my space - loud TVs, constant music or talking or even all of the above at once. I know a few people that can't manage silence. It makes them nervous, visibly. I can't fathom this - I can't fathom the need to hear something every waking moment, the need to fill a hole that may or may not be caused by an actual lack of anything. The imagined desolation that people think about when they hear the word "silence" is a place of comfort and calm for me. My demons are as loud as everyone's - or I suspect that they are, at any rate - I suppose that I have learned to appreciate their own unique music better than other people tolerate theirs.
I have become very attached to having time alone to enjoy the silence (someone please break out the Depeche Mode....) that I create. I haven't had a lot of it in the past few days - the husband is on vacation and home 24/7 - and I'm a little worse for the wear. I've had an attack of the sick, which I believe is related to the fact that I'm lacking silence. It's vital to my well-being, you see.
I can't imagine needing to fill my head and ears with sound, but many others can't imagine filling theirs with silence. Because I am in the minority, I will hold on to 3am tightly as a gold coin. It's treasure to my ears. No talking, no babies crying, no people pounding up and down the stairs, no dogs barking...just a velvety deep silence.
