What the f*ck.

Wikipedia: "Sound is a travelling wave, which is an oscillation of pressure transmitted through a solid, liquid, or gas, composed of frequencies within the range of hearing and of a level sufficiently strong to be heard, or the sensation stimulated in organs of hearing by such vibrations."


Sound is a stimulated sensation? Then hearing is the vessel by which it happens.
Like a palpitating heart, or beads of sweat on your fingertips, and the quickened cadence of your breath. I wish your heart could send waves. I wish there was a stimulated sensation for your travelling heart waves. I wish they had a name. Many times I would like not to speak. Indeed some would say, "You mean, you'd like to be silent." No, I mean I would like not to speak. Silence indicates a sort of purpose, perhaps a lack of something -- a vacancy -- an absence. Silence indicates poetic license. I have no such thing. Heart waves would accurately measure and send the temperament of your heart. Of course, now, we're speaking of your figurative heart, and not your literal heart. Though it's funny, whenever my "heart" "breaks," I feel a distinct pain in my chest. "Heartburn"? No, that's the stomach. Why did we need to make the feelings that supposedly encompass our figurative heart an organ? Why do we have to ground these feelings in the physical? Isn't the figurative "heart" metaphysical? Did we have to name it? Perhaps we wanted to possess it. To have a false sense of security about what we're feeling -- because let's be honest, we never quite know what we're feeling, yet we always want to capture it, describe it, define it, conquer it. But we can't. Do metal heart patients have trouble loving? So these waves would help me to not speak. They would help me to listen. To listen and not to not listen. They would open my ears. They would curtail the expectation, the desire, the want, the need to hear what I need to hear, and the disappointment that follows when I never hear it.


Have I said too much?