White Noise
Dear Friend,
I write this to you not with the usual greeting that opens a letter, and wishes that you are doing well. I write this to you, with the irksome exhaustion that this life brings with it on most days. The exhaustion with which we push aside our blankets every morning and try to face the day.
If you notice closely, the edges of this paper I write on, are dogged and turning in on themselves. Now look at yourself in the mirror. Compare your current face to a photo, or an image of yourself from the past. Notice some dogged edges? I’m sure there would be some. Some subtle edges, perhaps put there unconsciously over time, that have turned in on themselves because they were tired. Tired of fighting against the forces that they have to struggle with constantly.
Ever find yourself in a loud room? Of course you have. Isn’t it something we often talk about. Don’t you find yourself screaming inwardly at this loudness? Don’t you just wish that sometimes the screams within us, were loud enough to actually drown the noises of the outside world? If only.
I don’t know if that would be better or worse. But would certainly make this absolutely insolent life worth it perhaps.
You know what life is on most days? It is exhausting. Exhausting to live day in and day out, trying to keep your head above the water, while you try aimlessly and almost uselessly to fall in love with its pathetic banality.
I’m tired.
