Mute

Jan 12, 2008 - 09:45 AM PST

Sometimes I just feel as if being mute in this world would be a heck of a lot easier than being deafened by the crap that is air-waved/cell-phoned and tv'd at us. We find enjoyment in stories that happen to be so unlike our own lives and so realistically ours, that we waste our time being blinded by those things that we really cease to exist ourselves...wishing we could have those lives instead.

I often stop and think and wonder if really I'm just dreaming my life; like I'm in a coma and I'm dreaming up these wild stories and this family I have and these people who are my friends are really just something my mind - trapped in a body unable to guide it's way through the world - created. In grade school once, we were instructed to write a story...while I could not even begin to recite that particular prose to you, I destinctly remember a girl in my class standing up in front of the class, reading her Final Paper. It was about a girl whom counted her entire life - counted the seconds and minutes of time, allowing for others to live their lives, to breathe, eat, sleep...And then one day this girl decided to stop counting. And she found that life still went on; that the people she knew and loved did not stop breathing. Her mother still tucked her in at night, and that the world continued to exist.

Truly a brilliant story, really, if you think about the context of it...and I suppose sometimes when I'm driving and all I do is just drive, and not really anything comes to mind except there's the road, and here I am and I'm going - and so what really am I doing? Exhisting. Breathing. And it doesn't really matter if anyone stops counting, because there will always be a number for someone to pick up and start counting again.

And there will always be that hum of the computer, tv, radio, cell phone...and that one person who ponders whether being mute in a world that deafens us would be easier.