It was there on the edge of an unknown ledge that I saw the face of a world yet to be seen. The sun bled blurs of burgundy red and orange across the purple Southern sky. I could hear the crashing of the waves under the cliff side when the summer wind brushed me from side to side.
I stood firmly. If not for myself, then for who?
All the happiness, all the anger in the world, the sad sweetness…I could feel it clawing at my throat. The day was going to leave me soon too and there I would be. Alone at last. As the last bits of the bay were swept by the darkness of the night, I felt myself break.
There was a scream like no other. No echos. No sound.
Just a silent roar. I grabbed my chest and neck trying to push out what wouldn’t come out. And it was there on the edge of a ledge unknown that sat a broken man.
I woke hanging halfway off the couch in my living room with the dawn of the day beginning to crack through my dusty shutters to the living room. The pitter-patter of the paws come down the tiled hallway. Three snouts brushed across my face and, by the time I looked up, they were making their way to the desert dry bowls that sat near the backdoor.
Getting up, I spent the next 10 minutes looking for the tangled mess of headphones that I always carry. Chances are, you might not catch me without them. Truthfully, I think it filters out the bullshit that gets slung into the fan on a day-by-day basis. Think about it, would you rather hear the riffs from a Jimi Hendrix song or listen to the incessant droning of a boss who could give a damn about you?
And if you say the latter because you need the cash; that’s what we call a sell-out. I might say something else but we can save that for another entry.
After some time of mumbling obscenities under my breath, I continued on. It was there in the silence of a half-woke home that I came with the idea. Granted, this arose from a conversation that I had with someone that I deeply respect.
As he stood with a leather bag draped over his left shoulder on his way out the door, he looked at me with those eyes that could tell you your life story in a way unimaginable and said this:
“You have a voice, son. Don’t force it. You’ll get where you need to be in time. With some years under your belt and some influence here and there, you’ll do what you need to do.”
So, I’d like to thank the man who was the catalyst for possibly one of the strangest dreams in quite some time. Seriously, if I wanted to hallucinate and have an eye-opening experience, why not find some nice Native ‘Mericans and get some peyote. Regardless, it got me to thinking about something that I don’t think many people think about willingly. Let those therapists strike up their pens and the philosophers with half a joint left get situated. Here it is:
I believe that majority of the people live their lives as vocal mutes.
I must preface this post that no, I’m neither drunk nor high.
Just awake.
The thing of it is that I think people are afraid to let their voice be heard in such a polarizing state of the world. The problem with that is that I think this has been an ongoing situation.
Hell, when is the last time you heard the compliment for someone that went something like this: “Man, I just love that person. They’re just so honest and they speak their mind.”
That’s troubling to me. Honesty has become some sense of nobility and is a trademark for either a decent person or a great person. Shouldn’t that simply be a prerequisite. Call me old fashioned, I’d rather not be around a liar.
Yet, as vocal mutes, you’re entitled to the idea that it’s fine to agree with the general public while holding the notion that you have to be your own person. So, essentially, you’re supposed to be one of the flock of sheep but make your coat just a shade or two different. God forbid you be entirely ordinary.
Ordinary creates oddity. Oddity scares the status quo.
And, ladies and gents of history, what has the human race done with anything that we didn’t quite understand? The answer in the back was correct! We either kill it or stay afraid of it. Well, until it becomes too much of an obstacle and we find a way to accept it into our culture.
I know. Shocking in a snarky sort of way, right?
But to the point of it all: Why?
Of course, we want to tell people that you need to be your own person but it sure as hell doesn’t happen overnight and, much like a good BM, you can’t force it. I think the important idea to come out of today is nothing new that you couldn’t learn from some rebel, a poet, or a day-dreamer dreaming of tomorrow.
Be yourself at all costs and have a voice in anything.
To hell with the people that say it’s wrong to have an opinion on everything. You SHOULD have a say so on everything that comes your way.
To be indifferent to a matter is to be indifferent in a matter of life.
If you’ve read this far, perhaps you’re willing to go a little further. I propose a challenge for any and all. I challenge you, for the first ten minutes of your day, to be silent.
Do nothing to distract yourself. Just be yourself in the void of noise and see what you think of. Only in silence is the truth forever spoken.
Until next time,
Brandon King
Millennial Pioneer 