I am going to copy people who are talented, and make myself write for half an hour every morning, mostly unedited, because I hear practice makes perfect and routine is good, and good things come to those who wait and excuses, excuses. Today. Tinnitus.
What can I compare thy Tinnitus to? It is like a fridge in my bed, the bottom shelf filled with mystery brown bags that are filled with leaky orbs of fruit. It is like tooth ache. A scratch on my hand I didn’t notice, but will spend the rest of the day wincing whenever I touch it. But I can not stop touching it. Dear god, I can not stop hearing it. It’s like a spot in a visible place. An ulcer in my mouth I can’t stop poking with my tongue. It’s like a TV, radio or computer in my room on stand by. Always on stand by but some crazy Russian scientist has taken away all the plugs. Now they’re all self-aware. Or just out of reach. Just the tiniest bit out of reach, and no matter how I stretch I cannot get to that elusive off switch. Actually it’s like any electrical good on stand by. Take your pick. Blender. Other electrical goods. I can’t think because of the ringing.
I wonder if it’s like some kind of ancient God? If I write about its great power over my life or “quiet time”, then it will feel sated and go away for a while.
This tumblr post is the sacrificial virgin to my tinnitus.
It’s like a really small moth in my ear. Its’ impacted. It’s decay. It’s a cold, and melted earwax and tiny hairs that have been defeated by subs and amps and symbols, and if only I could explain to them that now is a time of contemplation. Shut the fuck up.
I wish I could negotiate with my own body, or at least know it might leave one day. Why does this month seem much worse then others? I haven’t been placing my ear next to any drills, I’ve been taking precautions with loud noises, I even turn down my headphones when I run now. Sometimes the clicking in my ankles is louder then Katy Perry’s laments about aliens.
It’s high frequency, then it’s an ocean, and then it’s a wall of noise, but not white noise, pink noise. It is an attentions seeker, it wants to be noticed but it hates to perform. It didn’t want to be at this party either.
It’s an Internet search in bed every morning, “Tinnitus miracle cure.” It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. I am falling asleep to apps that mimic natural sound scapes. Comforting to close your eyes too, terrifying to wake up to. Forests. Oceans. Crackling Log fires. No, I didn’t fall asleep at a ski resort in the alps with some brandy in my hand, a dog on my lap and am now on fire. No. I didn’t fall sleep on a beach, and the tide has come in and I am now drowning. No. I didn’t fall asleep in the great outdoors and now have hypothermia. No.
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