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“Twist and Shout” – welcome to my neighborhood!

October 9, 2009

Preamble:

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I was never good in chemistry , so somebody please tell me this: if silence is gold and talk is silver, then what goes for a mixture of agitated self-expression through loud speech growing into shouting?

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tall house

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It’s 7 a.m. on a chilly Saturday. A ruthless sound cuts into my sleep. I jump out of bed, my eyes still closed, feverishly trying to remember where I might have left the thing. A few seconds later, the ringing stops and I naturally conclude that somebody must have picked it up. It takes me about five minutes to sail to full awakening and realize that it wasn’t my phone.

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There is one thing I cannot grasp, gauge and digest. Why. Why do I have to share every detail of my neighbors’ lives? Why am I so deeply involved in the course of their actions, their family fights, their toilet breaks and TV shows? Why do I witness their misery?

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Let alone neighbors next door, I’m in the closest ear contact with everyone and everything going on under my windows and in the house on the other side of the street. I have a full report of their happy and sad moments – ask anytime. I don’t know their names but I know what makes them laugh and what ignites their passionate quarrels. A male individual (species and origin unknown) who lives on the second floor vomits curses or tediously preaches his family members on a regular basis. Now there is a bunch of freaks living just across the street, who rock my world. Literally. I love Pink Floyd. But now that we’ve got the earphones, is it really necessary to share one’s musical passion with the world? I wonder how much time it took their neighbors to upgrade their immune system to the decibels.

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Pizza delivery guys shake the neighborhood occasionally with their monstrously rattling motorbikes, accompanied by the roaring lawn mowers on the background.

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* * *

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This is “a day in the life”. This is peace, not quiet. This is an autonomic, very sensitive micro-planet refilling its atmosphere with nonstop, sparking emotions. Its life thrives and blossoms independently, its population never shuts up. Except for the two darkest hours before dawn, maybe. It’s like being one, big, blind family with superhuman ears – barely seeing each other, but being perpetually connected through sounds.

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Sometimes I forget in what galaxy I am. The cacophony of human voices and motor sounds makes me feel like I’m living in a hybrid of an Italian quarter infested by illegal Mexican immigrants’.

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I believe they exist. Quiet places inhabited by quiet people (and I’m not talking about cemeteries!), who have no propensity to trespass other quiet people’s private space. Drop me a line if you know such a place.

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P.S. Maybe all they need is a fast internet connection? It keeps me quiet..

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. Steven Harris permalink
    October 13, 2009 3:50 pm

    Or you need earplugs?
    http://doctorbeatnik.wordpress.com/

    • ostrix permalink*
      October 13, 2009 8:50 pm

      Could work as a temporary solution )))) But I have a conscious intent to migrate to a decent planet someday, where I can grow baobabs and tame roses ))) As a self-planet dweller, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about )))

      • Steven Harris permalink
        October 13, 2009 8:52 pm

        All are welcome on my planet. As long as you have your own spaceship.

      • ostrix permalink*
        October 13, 2009 9:08 pm

        I’m still a horseless debutante ))) but will get there for sure )))

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