Noise

I try to run. I really do. Sometimes I manage to escape and feel good, only to realise I never left in the first place. Torment may be too harsh a word but sometimes I wish I could just escape it all.

What am I talking about?

Noise.

I don’t like noise. I’ve learned to withstand it. I’ve gotten used to it. I mean, when your life is in Lagos, noise is your neighbour. But I don’t like crowds and prefer the company of a few people.

But I can bear that noise. It’s not so bad. That’s what earphones can be used for, right? So what am I running from?

I’m running from the noise in my head. It’s with me. It chases me. It traps me. 24/7. Often times I’m not even aware. It distracts me. It paralyses me. It wants to take away my peace of mind. Leave me alone for crying out loud.

But when I put it into thoughtful consideration, a scary part is maybe it’s just an extension of myself. Maybe that’s why I never seem to run far. No matter how the tree bends, it’s still connected to the roots. What can I do?

I say I love the quiet but do I really? I’m all alone in a physical silence but not a virtual one. I might as well be sitting next to a generator. Do you know how difficult it is in this day and age to put my phone down for an hour? There’s always one message to reply. There’s always something random to Google. There’s always something to watch. And if these factors don’t exist, I manufacture them. It’s almost like there’s something in me that keeps attracting me to these things, or these things to me.

Why do I run away from the virtual silence?

Another funny thing is, noise is relative. Especially noise of the mind. When having devotions or you’re meditating, your mind can be your own noise. It doesn’t matter whether what you’re thinking about is constructive or not. It’s noise in that very moment if it doesn’t align. The fluidity of my mind is sometimes difficult to control. There’s this inability to focus, jumping from one stray thought to the other. I could probably root that with laziness, my mind protesting by jumping ship from time to time because I don’t want to do what I’m currently doing. Maybe I can also tie that to impatience(yet another relative concept). I know in the genuine silence I would find something but my mind is too hyper to sit in one place for more than five minutes, even though I’m physically fixated in one spot for five hours.

In the end, noise is like a drug. Or alcohol. It’s aftermath is not pleasant. I know for a fact that it’s bad for me. But I keep going back and I can’t stop.

Truth be told, I’m not fully convinced I crave silence even though I’m physically comfortable there.