Sunday, January 23, 2011
There's a steady low hum that's barely audible while I go about my day to day life. When my day is uneventful, I can barely hear it. Sitting at a table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper, my head is almost silent. It's when I enter the outside world that the hum increases to a dull steady bassline, walking down the darkened snowy streets, the low frequency starts to mimic the beat of my heart. A pulsing, throbbing note so low it almost blends in with the sounds of traffic. Orange streetlamps reflect the snow back up to my eyes. My shadow retaliates by eating up every sparkle in my path with each step. Head down, hands in pocket. The beat starts pulsing in my diaphragm just below my lungs, in between my last rib and moves further up. I try to swallow it, it doesn't like that. It wants to take over. My heart starts beating in 6/8, I steady my pace and steady myself against the rush that is threatening to melt my spine. I feel the uncontrollable urge to sing at the top of my lungs, throaty and low. I can't help but walk faster as I start seeing floating gray circles in my peripheral vision, they're fighting for a place in the darkness that's closing in. Head still down I look up as a bus roars by, inches from my face; illuminated from within by fluorescent tubes and passengers aghast. The bassline creeps into the back of my throat and almost chokes me. It drowned out every outside noise. It almost drowned me.