E A R P L U G S

I've never had such blissful sleep as I did whilst having these beautiful pieces of expanding rubber pushed deep into my ears. When you've blocked out the sound of unnoticeable, invisible things it becomes clear how loud they really are. Water running through a pipe. A red fox's pawsteps in the loud air, along the creaking earth. The bricks your house is built from, rubbing against the cement, against each other. At the same time, the growling hum of the fridge, the clunking of the washing machine, pipes stretching themselves, stretching their metal arms to ensure they are useful when the sun rises. The handles of cupboards, loudly aching to be pulled or twisted, like the audible desire of downtrodden housewives, opressed by the jealous patriarch. Convulsing electronics, unsure when to keep quiet. The cause of an unpredictable life. Lightbulbs dancing to the loud, evening music of the breeze and sleeping birds. An unbearable cacophony of silence.

All gone once I've filled my ears. I become aware of my breathing, the hard beating of my heart that seems like it's resonating from miles off, a pounding of Thor's hammer against the bare earth, when my breath increases and I'm aware of the images inside my mind. Images of skin. Afterwards, while turning over, a wheezing sound tells me the air has been pushed out of my lungs. So liberating. I become aware of the blood inside my veins. Each individual cell. They are bustling like the women of my past life at the market place, queuing for meat and vegetables, queuing to feed their families. Pushing against each other, anxious to get something decent, worn down from the early rises and the late nights and brave face that is eating into their real one. Worn down to acceptance. Worn like rags. My bones creak. It runs in the family. I imagine a road and it's completely silent: so beautiful. This place I'm in right now, it's the best place in the world. Complete solitude. No worry, no chemical reactions filtering my reactions and thoughts. Darkness and silence. I can finally think clearly, devoid of the shouts from girls and boys interested in "culture". I'm trying to avoid using the words "fad" and "craze" and "latest trend" because it's all one trend. It's always been one, fluid trend. There are those who want to be part of the trend; they are accepted. There are those who are hypocrites. I am a hypocrite. I hate the trend, but it loves me so much I accept it. It makes me hate myself sometimes. Velvet is ugly, but people buy it. The trend doesn't care, it's not real. People care and they shouldn't and this is what I fortunately forget when the earplugs are in and all I can hear is my body living.