Sing Me A Song:
When I was a little child I would often spend the day with my mother.
Dad was off at work and we used to sit upstairs and eat warm tapioca pudding with rubber spoons and watch Bob Ross paint away a million trees on the television.
Sometimes it would occur to me that I needed something downstairs, but I was too afraid to go alone. So my mom would say, "I will sing you a song as you go." The sound of her sweet voice permeated the walls as my little feet made haste down the stairs, even skipping whole steps. (This scene if reminiscent of a recurring dream I had as a little kid of flying down the steps but being unable to reach them when I wanted to - floating.) Granted I still sprinted for my life, afraid of of every speck of shadow, but such a simple song gave little me much courage. Sometimes I think she would even stop, or rather I would stop being able to actually hear it (due to distance and volume) while she continued to sing. Nonetheless the song lingered on inside my head.
Imagined sound seems to still exist within me. Given a sound that continues to occur I tend to to continue to believe it is playing even if it is long gone. I kind of latch onto it and it gets stuck into my memory register. For example if I am hearing a repeated pulse or drone in the distance and it stops I might continue to believe it was playing. Perhaps it's just the songs willingness to sing, or my willingness to hear.
Another sound related thought revolves around sleep. When I was younger I would often awake to a dull ringing. The more I focused on it the louder it became. I would often find myself moving my body under my blankets in the middle of the night or rubbing my hands against the pillow in an attempt to stop focusing on the sound and get back to bed. The thing with the sound was that it never decreased in volume until I forgot about it. My stream of thoughts would make it get louder and louder to the point where I could think it no louder, but it continued to grow unbearably so. Focusing in on it did not give it any shape or meaning, only intensifying the noise. I was uncertain as to whether the sound emanated from some external source or was just something inside me like electrical residue from my dreams in my brain. It always did sound electrical in nature, like the strange sound occasionally found from an old television.
Dad was off at work and we used to sit upstairs and eat warm tapioca pudding with rubber spoons and watch Bob Ross paint away a million trees on the television.
Sometimes it would occur to me that I needed something downstairs, but I was too afraid to go alone. So my mom would say, "I will sing you a song as you go." The sound of her sweet voice permeated the walls as my little feet made haste down the stairs, even skipping whole steps. (This scene if reminiscent of a recurring dream I had as a little kid of flying down the steps but being unable to reach them when I wanted to - floating.) Granted I still sprinted for my life, afraid of of every speck of shadow, but such a simple song gave little me much courage. Sometimes I think she would even stop, or rather I would stop being able to actually hear it (due to distance and volume) while she continued to sing. Nonetheless the song lingered on inside my head.
Imagined sound seems to still exist within me. Given a sound that continues to occur I tend to to continue to believe it is playing even if it is long gone. I kind of latch onto it and it gets stuck into my memory register. For example if I am hearing a repeated pulse or drone in the distance and it stops I might continue to believe it was playing. Perhaps it's just the songs willingness to sing, or my willingness to hear.
Another sound related thought revolves around sleep. When I was younger I would often awake to a dull ringing. The more I focused on it the louder it became. I would often find myself moving my body under my blankets in the middle of the night or rubbing my hands against the pillow in an attempt to stop focusing on the sound and get back to bed. The thing with the sound was that it never decreased in volume until I forgot about it. My stream of thoughts would make it get louder and louder to the point where I could think it no louder, but it continued to grow unbearably so. Focusing in on it did not give it any shape or meaning, only intensifying the noise. I was uncertain as to whether the sound emanated from some external source or was just something inside me like electrical residue from my dreams in my brain. It always did sound electrical in nature, like the strange sound occasionally found from an old television.
