The Sounds of Silence

I haven't posted for a while, and I really ought to try harder. I just feel as though I've had nothing to write about, though I have a million things to say. But these past few weeks I've been embracing being quiet. It started last week when Nick had a big test to study for and rather than escape the apartment like I usually do when a test is on the horizon, I just stayed home and had calm, quiet evenings with no socializing. And it was lovely. I made dinner, cleaned up, read, messed around on the computer, cuddled with the cat, and I did not talk. It was a bit frustrating at times, but overall it was strangely soothing. The quietness was something I haven't experienced in a while, something I rarely experience. I feel as though every evening, every weekend, every moment of my life is taken up by social noise, and sometimes it just has to stop.

After such a quiet week, the weekend threw me for a loop. I feel as though I talked nonstop Friday night, with some singing and drinking in between, of course... I was exhausted but I probably could have stayed up all night, blathering on and on. But on Saturday morning, I awoke to nothing but the sounds of birds and an occasional car, and the sights of sunlight and trees through the windows of my friend's home just north of the city. While I waited for everyone to wake up, I was amazed by the peacefulness. I just sat on the couch and stared out the window and drank in the silence, wondering how in the hell I would ever force myself to go back to Brooklyn. But I did. Rather than sleep on the bus, though, I stared silently out the window. I barely thought about anything, I just reveled in the sights of trees and pretty houses and the endless river and highway, and I ignored all the sounds. Once I was back in the city I was horrified by the noises and sights and people and the terrible things they were saying. Talk talk talk, chat chat chat, yell yell yell... Curse curse, blah blah, crowds crowds crowds! Shh...

While I would have gladly spent my Saturday night curled up in bed reading, I forced myself to go back out for birthday parties because I'm a good friend like that, dammit. Once again I felt as though I had entered a portal into another world, making my way on the subway to the East Village and then Union Square for one party after another, filled with laughter and talking and drinking and dancing and loud, loud, loud music. I didn't quite know what to make of it. The clatter of high heels on the pavement, the sloppy drawls of drunk college kids, the unwelcome cat calls emanating from every corner... No noise escaped my ears, it was so overpowering. I could hear people taking drags of their cigarettes. I couldn't hear myself think. I wasn't thinking, I was just acting, just moving, just going with the flow of a noisy city that didn't give me a choice, just carried me along in its tornado of sound.

Sometimes the noise of this city is overwhelming. Perhaps it's because no matter where you go, no matter how many noises you hear, now matter how many people who are talking and yelling and laughing and crying in your ear on every street and every subway car, everyone is still alone, confined in their own little worlds. We are interacting with so many different people at so many different times, and yet, we interact with no one. It's a very isolating feeling, to hear so much and see so much and still know that you're just one tiny speck among millions, all of us endlessly prattling away about next to nothing.

I'm escaping the city this weekend. There will be no cars honking, no subway announcements, no sirens, no chatter of people on the street who you don't know and you will only pass by once in your life. And if you pass them by twice you'll never know it.While there will be family and friends talking on and on, when I wake up in the morning I can have my breakfast and sit on the porch and revel in the quiet that I've been craving. And when I'm hiking, I will hear only the leaves under my feet and the wind in the trees.

I feel like I need to counter this post someday with something that praises the noise and insanity of city life. I love it, I really do. But sometimes I just need to escape into the silence. Surely you understand.