piece of quiet

There once was a time when I thought it would be nice to be deaf... or mute...

Oh to be a mute (I would think)... how lovely would that be? People wouldn’t ever expect me to say much. I’d never start any conversations that I would later regret. I’d be really good at keeping secrets. But then people would think that I was some sort of bottomless reservoir, into which they would feel free to empty themselves of all their little skeletons, worries, guilts, and fears. I don’t imagine that would be too much fun after a while. But at least I’d be able to hear music... i think that would be one of the many things that would be frustrating about not being able to hear.

There are times, however, when I wish I had an excuse to ignore people and go about in my little bubble of silence.

maybe if I just wore a sign around my neck that said... ‘pardon me, but I’m not talking today.’ or ‘simulated deafness: please write all questions down.’

I once wore a blindfold around for a week to see what it was like being blind. I think I kind of hoped I would develop superpower senses, but I just ended up running into a lot of things.

no superpowers here.