Surrounded by the Din

It's so loud. It's everywhere -- coming at you from every angle, every second, and it wont be shut out -- can't be shut out. You know, 'cos you've tried.

Ever stand in a crowded room and everyone's talking, and it feels like they're all speaking directly to you, but try as you might, you can't hear any of them? Just dozens of people with their lips moving -- maybe a word here and there gets through -- but the cacophony of the moment is so overwhelming.

You see... suppressing all the voices, which alone would drive you mad, is the deafening pulse of something you might recognize as music -- the kind that moves through you with every beat, causing each fiber of you to resonate and stand on edge as if one more decibel and everything, including you, may shatter.

It's all around you and you can't shut it out. You fall asleep and your dreams aren't dreams but fragmented bits of reality. They're almost lucid because the world outside doesn't stop when you close you eyes. And so now you're not even dreaming -- not really. Feels like you're always awake and everyday things get a little bit louder. A little crazier.

You can handle it. You always have. You've always been really good at handling it. Putting on the brave smile. Keeping your cool. Being the calm amidst the storm. You're so polished at playing perfect that everything seems shiny... like a fresh coat of paint seems even if it's covering up a rotting wall... and you almost believe the facade as long as they do. They. Them. 'Cos God forbid that you bring it up to your friends... those people around you every day. Those that you love and who love you and would be first in line to help. It's far easier to vent to strangers and online pals twelve time zones away than admit that paradise maybe lost. Sure, the ones next door will read this too and ask what's up and deep down maybe it's what you want.

But you've always known what you wanted. Just didn't know how to get it. You can see it. Every so often there's a glimmer of the way you think things ought to be. A dream you're still fighting for and you know you won't give up on it -- 'cos you can't. The word "dream" always sounded like a fancy word for goal, but goals are what you set -- those are the things you list in a day planner that you can check off at the end of the week. Dreams are who we are.

Dreams are the things that drive us. Make us. They're the quests that keep us up at night and stir our imaginations during the day. They're what you think about when the din goes away. When it all gets quiet -- which isn't often enough anymore -- that's when you see them. That's when you see yourself... the self that you're proud of, that you're pushin' for... the part of you that carries your purpose in the world. The self that is all too often buried and lost in the insanity that is life.

Too often the din shuts it out. You can't turn down the stereo and you can't hear what everyone's saying to you. You want to hear them. You do. You remember when things weren't so loud and overwhelming. And it almost hurts, like the ache you get in your stomach when you miss someone... because you don't know how to slow down; you don't remember how to quiet everything enough to get back to that place when the world wasn't so heavy. Moment by moment everything's ticking away and things are happening so fast, like the world's spinning out of control. You're holding on because you know there's a purpose, there's a part of you meant for something --

I'm just frustrated. At myself. It's been an interesting few months and I think I'm just finally starting to realize that. It's funny... the things we choose to hear in the din... the things we don't... the way we pursue a dream while ignoring the everyday world... and how it's probably not as bad as I seem to think it is right now. But then maybe it is. And I'm still refusing to see it or listen to my self.

Because all I can hear is the din.