I'm always baffled by our fascination with sound. White noise, music, news, or even silence. Most people get dressed for work in the morning (or whenever you happen to work) and they instinctively turn on the TV or the radio and put on the morning news, weather, cartoon or what not. It's just on to be on. There is no focus on it - the focus is on preparing for the responsibilities ahead. But we turn it on anyway - myself included. It's become our daily need for white noise to fill that seemingly uncomfortable silence.
I always keep my box fan on inside my bedroom. The temperature gets high and low and the air sometimes doesn't circulate well, so the fan helps to regulate the room a bit. I pulled the plug by accident and suddenly the fan shuts down. I stopped my assignment to listen. I was puzzled by the lack of noise. Silence. Silence. Silence. At first I didn't realize it was the fan exactly - just that something wasn't right.
Sometimes I am irked by silence. Perhaps it is because I am a music major - I am constantly surrounded by sound and pitch and always I am listening. Music surrounds my life, and even in my brain I am uncomfortable thinking nothing. I always hum or sing a tune to keep my mind from dwelling on the silence.
== (Music Moment Below)
That's what I find so intriguing about John Cages, "4'33". He sits musicians down and they rest for 4:33. The audience is the one creating the music. Through their fidgets, coughing, adjusting their zippers, sighs, stiffled sneezes they create the piece.
On Shut Up and Take My Hand
My relationship with my 'father' has been a rather interesting one. For the majority of my life I would of classified myself as somewhat of a 'daddy's girl' simply because I was closer to him than to my mother. However, this was during the time where I was young (...younger) and rather deluded. I used to look up to him and respect him since no matter how you look at it, even now I still think this, he is a very skilled man capable of many things. A man of many talents.
But that has all changed. For quite a while I knew my 'father' was not the same person I thought he was or should be. Yes, he could build a table and fix the television but he couldn't hold a simple conversation without starting an argument or bringing up controversial issues or something he knew would agitate another person currently in the room. Yes, he could lift me and my sisters at the same time but he was also incredibly insensitive - on purpose possibly, and constantly made my mother cry.
And I guess now I see that all the positives matter very little if he cannot be the father I need him to be.
This is just going to be a post of me complaining and whining so if that doesn't interest you I recommend you stop reading now cuz seriously, this is gonna get reeeeaaaaall pathetic right about now ._.
A few days (around two...?) back, I told my family that I didn't want to go to this party that they insisted I attended. Honestly, I was just feeling really tired, really shitty and just not in the mood to deal with people that I didn't particularly like and who didn't particularly like me. In response to this little rebellious action of mine, I was told 'you are selfish, arrogant, all you do is cause us trouble, you're ungrateful and this is why no one likes you' etc. etc. etc.