Chaos in Sound
The world spins around me. Chaos and noise erupt. The clamour of every day life is deafening. It's as though the vibrations of the sound are trying to shake me apart, as though the volume of the world has been turned up for me alone. It's deafening.
I feel uncertain. There is so much around me. The voices, the footsteps, the laughter, the screams, the sobs, and the machines. The machines shriek at me. They beep. They hum. They buzz. It swirls around me in an endless cyclone of noise. It pulls at me, wrapping me in a fog of sound.
I cannot focus. I cannot hear past the turbulence. I cannot think past the unrelenting roar around me.. It permeates me, affecting every part of me. My lungs feel heavy, weighted, as if it's harder to breathe, even when it isn't. I fight to keep from gasping. My stomach clenches, flooding with butterflies and cramping in pain all at once. My head aches, making it impossible to focus. My legs tremble as if I have run for hours, yet I've barely taken a step. I feel hollow, as if someone has scooped out all that makes me...me.
So I sit here, huddled in a corner, hoping no one sees how close I am to tears, how close I am to falling apart. The world trembles beneath me, yet none around me feel the tremors. The air is thick, choking me, yet no one else struggles to breathe. The lights are too bright, yet I am the only one squinting in the brightness. The volume on everything increases ten fold, yet the others only talk louder to compensate. No one else feels any change.
I long for shadows to hide me, to muffle the noise. The chaos melts away in the darkness of night. Evening comes, and the world falls silent, and for a moment, just for a moment, I can breathe. I can remember that I am me. I can remember that there is peace in this world of noise. I can remember.