Further thoughts on the loudness of the world. When I wrote that I had country-pop radio playing. Currently I’m in a Best Buy. Both of which are higher decibels than the library and the noise equally meaningless.
Why am I able write in a Best Buy but not a library? Perhaps it’s a comfort thing. This chair I’m sitting in is awesome. My car, where I wrote the last post, is a kind of “safe space”.
The noise in this store is a kind of aural electronica music. It’s designed to be soothing so you’ll buy the TV. You’ll notice the TV in the store never had a teen soap opera on. It’s always a travel scene, usually in the Caribbean. Occasionally it will be a children’s movie.
Perhaps the library is just quiet enough to be loud. Every little sound stands out. It’s not like a store where things fade into white noise.
Maybe it’s the inherent uncomfortableness of the library. Most of the people there are just depressing to look at. The computer station feels like a mini prison.
A retail store, almost by definition, tries to create a wonderland of mystery and opportunity. You’ll notice the ceilings are usually too high.
I’m sorry if the blog has gotten boring. I ran out of things to say about women and blacks. I don’t want to talk about myself too much, but it seems inevitable.
The world is a loud place. We have created it in our own image. We have to have constant noise in order to block out our thoughts. But God only speaks in the whisper.
I’ve somehow learned a lot about humanity and myself from all the old rock n roll and country that I’ve listened to. It’s the cry of the soul in pain, almost a kind of prayer. And I’ve lost interest in it. It’s more clutter.
There’s something painful about being in a quiet car, so I have the radio in the background, but I’m not really listening. Maybe that’s worse. Maybe, like the library, the small noises of the engine and the air add up. I’ll think on it some more and write about it.