I am not the only one… right?
I didn’t used to have a problem with silence. In fact, I’m not even sure if I actually have a problem now. I don’t need constant sound to stay content but it helps. I have this condition that everyone around me is convinced is completely self-inflicted, self… concocted. When I am fueled with caffeine or when I am calm and collected… Basically, when I am in a state of awareness or clarity, I see them- It? … Them.
Having ample time to notice the symptoms, I had equal as ample time to investigate and understand myself.
I apologize. I’m a little everywhere at the moment. Since I am thinking about ‘them’ and writing about ‘them’ and my experiences in particular, I am listening to music and having a movie play in the background. Anything to keep me distracted while I try to concentrate. I understand if you think less of me with my descriptions being so… Awkward. Vague? Again, pardons. Allow me to try this again.
I am an adult, female, 25 years of age. I live in a peaceful environment. My childhood, adolescent and young adult years were simple and nerdy. I enjoyed activities but did not involve myself in parties. The pub and bar scenes were not my things. My things were anime cons and small gatherings with friends. I have never done drugs and I like to think I am somewhat mentally sound considering being raised in a traditional Asian family where father felt physical punishment were adequate forms of discipline for their offspring. Basically, I am describing my life because I do not feel that what I experience is a developed mental condition due to my living habits, present or past.
When there is little noise and I have a sense of awareness, energetic-ness and/or clarity… I see ‘them’. I could be sitting at a library with my eyes lulling closed due to lack of sleep and all of a sudden, I’ll see ‘them’. Disfigured, delusions, doused and dusty. Dark. Damp. Dense… Disgusting… I cannot tell what ‘they’ -are-, only that ‘they’ are unpleasant. I see them and I am immediately compelled to wretch myself away as if seeing an accident nearly take wing- however when I do, I’d have opened my eyes to the physical world. Light, sound, environment, smells… Peace…
For the sake of making this a little more clear for you, I will do my utmost best to sufficiently describe what I am uncomfortable with.
‘They’ are dark figures, massed together. Mist or dust or some sort of gas bellowing out from somewhere within that seemed to otherwise elegantly drape their shady, off-black-grey sketched out silhouettes. They have distinguishable limbs but they maneuver with such fluid movement that I- could- be wrong? They -may- be tendrils… Somewhere in the mists dancing with the peripheral, bone thin, elongated appendages with three or four joints; insect or arachnid like- twitch with unpredictable, unstable snaps and pops. I do not see eyes but I can swear I know where they are on however many heads. Humanoid or not, I do not need glowing optic orbs to tell they are watching me with trollish- teasing?… mocking… hungry… savoring delight. A-And their smile…! Depending on how focused they are on unnerving me, they could hold any range of expression from a hauntingly stoic angled glance to a maniacally thin, toothy, discoloured wry Cheshire comparative, hysterical, Broken Gotham Joker Grin.
Their appearances do not disturb me as much as I may sound like they do. I’ve gotten somewhat used to the sight of them so much that I don’t even take as much heed as I used to. I can see them when I blink.
However… Lately, I could almost smell ‘them’ and taste ‘them’ and feel ‘them’ and… -hear- ‘them’.
An aroma like a bundle of old and brittle newspapers exposed to the damp rain within a crowded and busy port city. Or the familiar musk of a loved pet coming in from the rain laced with the scent of what could be thought of as a childhood guardian just beginning to cook your favorite childhood meal. Like the wet, humid scent of hose water hitting scorching hot, bacteria slathered pavement intertwined with the heavy, distinguishable odor of decomposing green-life like cut grass left in an air tight heavy duty plastic bag that had been sluggishly settled under the blaring sun for two grueling, sweltering days.
The taste that triggers my tongue often resembles the awkward fragrance of wood or of paper… A sensation that would taste as it could be described. Bitter and sloppy, slushy, sluggish, sludgy… Something significantly identifiable but at the same time, definitely not particularly jubilant to the senses.
Hearing their mocking, judgmental, degrading snickers are nothing but black noise at the back of my skull. Unfortunately… on occasion, the sounds fill my mind… ‘they’ are everything negative that could possibly be thought of. They mention everything negative that could possibly be considered. And on occasion, it is difficult to fight off what I consider their noise as; depression.
What bothers me the most though… Does not occur as often. In fact, the most I’ve ever struggled with, is their hurtful banter. However, as I mentioned; while in awareness or in clarity, I experience ‘them’ the most. What’s more; as previously mentioned, I do not think about it. I see them even when I blink and I can’t do anything about it. They fill my senses to the point where I can feel them at the back of my eyeballs. The longer I close my eyes to rest them or to clear my head, everything they are progressively grow like rust and corrosion on my senses. My lungs and my nasal cavity fill with their breathe and their stench. I could feel their corruption in every cell of my being, from my stomach, lungs, intestine, tongue, nose, eyes, ears, and -skin-, ‘they’ fester and seep into my blood. Sounds fill my ear canals, clamor and crawl into the ear drum and fluid only to twist and turn in toward my brain behind my eyes. The sight of ‘them’ fill my vision and mind leaving behind invisible after-images that do not visibly exist but I know they are there. Everything compels me to look away and open my eyes to the pretty world… But what bothers me the most… What lingers on my skin like residue left behind from condensation…
Even when I open my eyes again and return what little sanity I had lost using the light and the environment of my harmless, physical surroundings… I can feel them. They chitter and churr like feral creatures while they brush up against me. Where my eyes cannot see and where my limbs do not usually reach for, they lick and rub. They tenderly caress like some sick pervert savoring the sight of their prey. I can feel ‘them’ as they slowly graze a sensual slide ever so slightly and lightly against the back of my neck near the brain stem and down the edges of my spine. They lean in and chuckle close to my ear… So close I could feel their putrid, poison breath puffed on my skin. When in the presence of company, I must not flinch or react… as they ‘lovingly’ and sensually run their moist, sticky finger tips and dirtied and chipped nails down the sides of my face, over my lips and along the collar bone. Their embraces are unwelcome, slothy, sluggish and impure.
Am I the only one who can see them when I blink or close my eyes? The only one who in less than a second can be plunged into vexation and have all my senses assaulted by their repulsive existence? When you blink. They are there. And when you open your eyes, they’re a fading after image of everything but nothing at the same time. Like blotches of toxic unknown smeared onto the back of your eyeballs.
I’m not the only one, right? Tell me you can see yours too. Tell me that I am not crazy and alone… Tell me that I am not neurotic and usele- I need more sound. I will not let ‘them’ laugh at me.
But— I’m not alone. Right?! When you blink, you see them too. When you’re ready to sleep, you see them too. Before they were harder to notice because they’re so dark and are massed together so large that when closing your eyes or blinking, you just see darkness. But they -are- the darkness you see when you close your eyes. I’m not the only one that noticed them…
Problem with Silence
I am not the only one… right?