Thursday, 21 November 2013
You can't escape it, the noise. You can't flee from it. It penetrates through the thick walls, through closed doors. It travels to the quilt you are curled under in a desperate attempt to evade it. But it passes through, and it continues past the pillow covering your head inside the quilt. It snakes in between the vaccum in the middle of your ear and the headphones that blast music to drown out that noise. It grows over the beat of the music bellowing into your ear like a formidable, daunting whisper.
It's the background hum that never recedes. Instead, it continues to built up in intensity against all odds. It rocks your threshold. Slowly breaking your hold on tranquility. It throws you into a cyclone of commotion. Clamour. Racket. Uproar. It tears away the shred of peace you hold on to.
You scream. You scream so loudly in the depths of the night and in broad daylight. It's like a shadow that haunts and stalks you, no matter what time of the day it is, no matter what your surrroundings are. It pinches your fears, fueling them into a burning rage. Bubbling hot inside you while you are in a desperate attempt to cool off.
No one understands as you stand on the threshold of insanity; breaking down brick by brick, unable to hold still. All your attempts seem frutile. Nobody sees the fear behind your glassy eyes. No one notices sweat that breaks on your face. No one realizes what pain you are in. And nobody hears your silence screaming.