noise

The noise in my life has high and low tides, violently crashing or relentlessly easing its way unpleasantly to the shores of my scattered brain.  The burdens of school, work, relationships, and finances pull the moon and the sun simultaneously.  Gravity has no choice but to submit to the rotation of my stressful, privileged world.  As with any noise, the negativity I try so hard to ignore remains louder than the whispering attempts to conquer these seemingly petty disturbances.  Noise consumes me and is the biggest challenge I see in my day-to-day.  Any cessation is more of a muffle, battling to drown it out until my hands get tired of holding my tragi shut.  The first-world expectations that my family and friends subscribe to are a clamoring force that does nothing but make me feel aimless and unmotivated—an eight year undergraduate member of a group of post-grads who are, in fact, doing just as much, if not less, than I.  Money makes the biggest racket of all—a form of trade created by a species so set on bringing down its own.   There is no doubt that I am not meant to be one of the few who overcome this evil.  Each paycheck unleashes uproarious, harsh reality into my flailing search for comfort and complacency.  Perhaps it’s selfish to place so much importance on my own tumult of debt, but looking at the commotion in other peoples’ lives does not succeed in trivializing my own (as it shouldn’t).  Every single noise is loud enough to irritate those who have the worst and the best of it, but each end of the spectrum shouts an annoyance not worth tolerating.