a noisy train ride
i love my quiet. i like to eat my meals in silence, shower without music, ride the train without a soundtrack (sometimes). i bask in the almost-silence power outages bring. i haven't experienced one in a while, but i think of one time, years ago, when the power was out longer than usual. suddenly, the electric hum that i thought was natural ambience was gone. i didn't know that was what real silence sounded like.
now i am on the train, across a family with four young kids, including a babbling toddler and a shrieking kid who won't sit properly. i regretted not bringing my headphones for the commute but i guess i didn't need it with their noise.
i don't know where i am going with this. maybe it is that as much as i love my quiet bubble where everything is serene and whispered, loudness makes things interesting. there's a girl talking down on her boyfriend. the man in front of me singing even before he's untangled his headphones. disgusting coughs that make me wish i had brought a mask. BABY SHARK. the singing guy now playing air drums, slapping his lap and singing a few lines.
yeah, i don't regret leaving my headphones behind. š