The International Writers Magazine: Issues
The darkness in the country is darker than the darkness in the city.
I have a theory. In the city we're all trapped. And not just physically, but intellectually. There are so many distractions: noises, smells, tastes, vibrations for our mind to process. So many things that our brain is trying to accomplish that there just isn't enough room.
To make room, we talk things out of our heads, tell other people. But with so much going, how can our poor brains complete thinking processes? So much work that the mind only has time to think it 50% complete.
So what are we speaking? Half-arsed thoughts, that's what.
In the country, there's only the wind, birds, maybe some rain occasionally. You hardly hear cars, or lawn mowers, or neighbor kids or your neighbor's dog. You might hear, smell or touch the immediate surroundings. . .but most importantly, you hear your own voice. Something you have to compete for in the city.
So your brain completes its cerebrality. So we speak whole thoughts. There's so much silence; my voice delights in staying in. No competition.
The darkness in the country is darker than the darkness in the city. The sun is heard during the day, and the moon in the night. If people talk in the night they do so in the comfort of the dark, or only use a candle or small lamp. They don't make the moon compete for his darkness.
There is so much clutter and crap in the city that we've boxed ourselves in. Our minds no longer have space to grow. And all this clutter of minds and objects just creates one vicious roar, of all those voices, sounds, smells, lights and vibrations trying to be heard because there's no more room left in our minds.
Between attics, staircases, beds, boxes, sheets, shrubbery and our neighbors, we, the city people, are incomplete. Only 50% done.
© Kay Teague Oct 2010