Wednesday, August 08, 2012

{i believe in silence}

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even when it's perfectly quiet, it's not. that's the thing that's too bad about being inside of a house inside of a city.

the garbage truck and the neighbours and the sirens and the lawnmower and the fan and the fly buzzing against the window and the fridge. there's a separate humming sound all the time too, and i don't even know what's making it.

i sometimes wish for the nights when i was 17, and i'd follow gravel roads out to a place where i could barely even see any lights, and lay on the hood of my car in complete, actual silence. i recognized all the constellations, even if i didn't know all of their names, and would try to find them in the freckles on my arms. sometimes i'd have friends with me, but the rule was that no one was allowed to say anything because that would wreck it. one time a few of us drove to the valley at midnight and made spaghetti and meat balls over a campfire and stayed up watching the stars until they were gone.

it's amazing how quiet stars are, how quiet space is. you'd think something that big would make a sound that we could hear from here.

i think people were made for more silence than we get in a day. i know a lot of us are uncomfortable with dead quiet, but i wonder if all those little sounds and big sounds and tv shows and background music and words and creaks and hums contribute to the screws in our necks and shoulders?

Silence by Blindside on Grooveshark