Life in Deaf

By gmicheler


A flashing scene.
Blink. Rewind. Stop.
Tentative, shaking fingers reaching slowly into space.


Silence. Darkness.

If it were possible to reach far into the depths of my mind and pull the plug, it would have been long accomplished. I imagine the human mind existing like one shining infinite television. One screen-- attached to a player and a processor. Constantly recording and replaying image, sound, and feeling, then combining them into prisms of thought. And memory. It would all be so clean and precise, with mechanical cogs whirring and clicking in a comfortably inorganic manner without interruption or error. The television system would send information flowing inward and outward through millions of endless tangles of wiring. Wires of all different shapes, sizes, colours would writhe through space in an almost unorderly way, like one would imagine stringing out from behind personal computers and other machines of technical babble. If it were possible to reach my hand through the solid core shell of my skull and cut each and every last goddamn contorted cord, I would not waste one second of my time to do it.

This is not because of the disaster itself. Nor is it because of the aftermath. I don't need relief from the affliction or the ache. I need order. I need organization. I can't deal with the chaos, constantly racking my brain day and night. I need a simple answer. But I can't have it. Even when escaping to a place where I can be myself, be as close to human as I possibly can, I can't have it.

I live in silence.

Life in Deaf

Created: Jul 21, 2010


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