Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Soundly sane
A strange sensation permeated the whole body, most notably in ears. The past 2 days have been far from rough, though it has inevitably triggered an obvious physical changes. Seldom do events such as this occured, and the prospects of facing such a scene is indeed utterly mortifying, but also pleseantly refreshing.
I woke up with a dull awareness in the depths of the night. In the misty grasps of the darkened world, the foot met with cold frigid stone, yet it was not correct. A thousand million cymbals asailed the apless head, and like a summer's spring, blood rushed to the temples.
The head felt weightless, so very oddly light. In the stillness of the moment, the soft chatter of the night seeps through the bloody mess that was my head. I hear the air-conditioning, I hear the hum of electricity. The mummer of the night crawlers gently drawing my attention. One by one, the little sounds grew louder. A soft buzzing that in a moment's length boomed out louder than the roar of thunder. It hurt like hell.
I opened my mouth to speak, and so distant the voice that came from the lips. Yet, there was surprising clarity. Was this my own head?
All at once, it appeared that a bubble had been formed, between the thresholds of reality and mind, segregating the outside from the in, and simultaneously, the world at large seemed to gently caress my soul with each pronounced note, each nuance clearly discernable, each syllable rich and full of variety.
Then the voices started to fill up the space. Yesterday, an immense sponge of brain would soak up each word as though life depended on them. Yet words only were heard, not feelings nor emotions or sound. Now, it was very drastically removed from routine, and exciting. Colours and tones, butterflies and flowers, death and sorrow, all together they sang a horribly delightful new tune.
Sound is one of our most neglected senses. It's a gorgeously brilliant ability that we all have, but one that many take for granted. I like lsitening to sound, but it's significant haev unobtrusively faded into oblivion. Quite ostensibly, the sense of sound have been neglected, and true varying degrees, abused.
The ears become simply a means to which to imitate the sounds that propagate in space. To be more blunt, the ears to me were merely an accessory to achieve a myopic goal. You see, for I had obssessed over owning a "perfect" voice. What ther ears represented was a voice that lingered so distantly from the ideal.
Resentment personified. I was utterly crushed to hear that weak voice. A thin lousy voice that hardly commanded any credibility. Moreso, there was a complete disgust at the obstinate urge to pursue such trivial affairs. In other words, the ears becaome a personification of imperfection, the very reminder of the multitudes of flaws inside.
How then can I continue enjoying it when it had come to hold such strong feelings, such strong disgust.
Freud once described this phenomena. In his example, he told of how society had lead men to associate feelings of guilt with sex.Similarly, the association of sadness and inability with my hearing was definitely not a healthy state of being.
I owe myself an apology. Now, the question is what otehr sensations have been associated with guilt and resentment?
There are many.
Gavin
pondered @ 21:20
