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What a difference 20 minutes makes.
Sep. 7th, 2004 11:39 pmWhen I was in high school, even with the tv turned down to the barest whisper, off in the exact opposite corner of the house, I could still recite word-for-word the shows my mother was watching. Things have been...different.
I remember it well. It was the first Tuesday after my apartment caught fire. I had been forcibly moved from my first apartment to the living room of my second. The fortune on my cookie from the night of the move began "You are searching for a home..." I was in the shower that Tuesday morning, finals looming everpresent, and *WHUMP*, I got water in my ear. And unlike nearly every other time I got water in my ear, it stuck.
Water, wax, perhaps even a colony of gnomes, who really can tell, my right ear (and for the past two months my left) has been sealed nearly shut. Recently, the silence has been almost unbearable. Then on the way home from Shaughn's tonight, *CRUCH*.
CACOPHANY. The roar of the engine, the howl of the wind, the click of my turn signal was nearly too much. The radio was instantly killed. For the first time in four years, I can hear properly. The timbre of the world is indescribably different. I don't even know if there's a way to measure the difference in what has happened, but it means the world to me.
If I wake up deaf, dumb, and blind tomorrow, or even if I wake up dead from an aneurism, it will have been worth the wait. I can hear.
I remember it well. It was the first Tuesday after my apartment caught fire. I had been forcibly moved from my first apartment to the living room of my second. The fortune on my cookie from the night of the move began "You are searching for a home..." I was in the shower that Tuesday morning, finals looming everpresent, and *WHUMP*, I got water in my ear. And unlike nearly every other time I got water in my ear, it stuck.
Water, wax, perhaps even a colony of gnomes, who really can tell, my right ear (and for the past two months my left) has been sealed nearly shut. Recently, the silence has been almost unbearable. Then on the way home from Shaughn's tonight, *CRUCH*.
CACOPHANY. The roar of the engine, the howl of the wind, the click of my turn signal was nearly too much. The radio was instantly killed. For the first time in four years, I can hear properly. The timbre of the world is indescribably different. I don't even know if there's a way to measure the difference in what has happened, but it means the world to me.
If I wake up deaf, dumb, and blind tomorrow, or even if I wake up dead from an aneurism, it will have been worth the wait. I can hear.
