Why can’t the world just shut up?Contrary to my verboseness in my writing, you’d normally find me sitting there, sulking in the corner, quietly minding my own business. Because I, of all people, happen to enjoy silence as much as I would devour a double down sandwich within five minutes. And if you happen to disturb me in my so called mute sanctuary, I would (a) on the most favorable of circumstances, just let that little disturbance slip off and pretend like it didn’t happen (b) be civil enough to tell you to shush up or (c) ragefully snap and transform myself into a 6-month starved lion ready to take you down anytime, anywhere. And oh, I just noticed how the word “ragefully” was underlined with red in my word processor. I love making my own adverbs. Thanks for the correction, but I’d have to ignore you for now MS Word.
I am especially enraged during times when my classmates seemed to have mania of the vocal chords, their voices sprouting from every direction I don’t know where, while I, being their Class President, is trying my best to announce something. How I hate those moments! Faced with a highly trained 45-man noise battalion who mercilessly weren’t so forgiving, I know I wouldn’t win.
Well, genius as I am, sort of discovered a very innovative solution: a microphone. That time, no one in the noise battalion dared to stand up and compete with me and my much, much better arsenal. I owned them, hurling higher decibelled words which outdone the battalion’s weapons, thanks to the built in speakers in the classroom. It was my personal Hellenistic age! Although the glorious golden days were only short lived until the skills lab custodian went beserk, reprimanding me of causing too much noise. I had to suffer a long sermon then. And that was five minutes post-discovery of the wondrous microphone. Boohoo.
The preschool teachers must have something in them that lures their students into silence. I remember my grade school days in O.B.Montessori when we would play “The Silence Game” where we would rest our butts on the little pink and yellow chairs, place our hands in our laps, zip our mouths, and stare blankly to your seatmates’ sipon smeared faces without saying a word . I loathed that then but now, I deem it very useful.
High school days came and the “Silence Game” was replaced by “The Noisy List”. And I, being a human chat box would always top the list written in the least unnoticeable corner in blackboard. I was really noisy when I was young. I also remember the dramas and tampuhans behind those lists, especially the one when a classmate of mine allegedly accused the Noisy List lister of the day of injustice which was then followed by a inter-girl group derby. I can’t belive were that gullible.
Sometimes I wish that some brainiac would discover a remote that could mute the entire surroundings. And if that brainiac do come up with something similar that and sell them to the public , he will definitely make a market composed of me and other noise Nazi’s. I can just imagine myself hoarding the shops,buying myself two pieces so that if the other one gets broken, I’d still have one as reserve until I buy another one. And probably on my second trip, I’d would have saved some money to buy those hyperdecibelled people their own silencers.
While the materialization of that ingenious idea looks too distant, I’d have to start in conceptualizing it, just to speed up things.
