Monday, September 12, 2011

Dallas does...Hours 18-28

Forgive the pun, but I'm speechless about how hard it is to remain speechless.
I meant to provide a much more detailed update, but the hour is late and I've had a pounding headache since my brush with total starvation earlier. A brush that happened to be very in-line with the activities of an ascetic- while practicing the austerity of silence they rarely ate more than what would minimally sustain them. The vow is meant to be accompanied by a dedication to giving your body nothing in excess of what is required for basic survival.
My major accomplishment of the afternoon was remaining entirely quiet during the entire 75 minutes of my discussion-based literature class. That is a landmark achievement in my entire college career. The worst part was that I got a good grade on the quiz from last week and couldn't even text my mom to celebrate.
It's the little things like that text that I came to miss the most. It killed me that I couldn't even say a casual "thanks" to the guy who held the door open for me this morning.
Of course, there were also more extensive speech acts that I wanted to participate in and I definitely crossed the line once or twice with my hyperactive hand-signaling.
When 6:30 rolled around it was time for the CAB administrative meeting, an event that I had given myself a "hall pass" for because of the issues that needed to be discussed. I was very careful to try to allow only CAB-related words out of my mouth, but it was nearly impossible to stop the flow once I let just a few words out.
Uggh. Yep, I admit it. It hasn't been 28 hours of total silence. But it's been a good faith effort and I'm glad that the final 8 will be mostly spent in bed. I spoke only when the conversation could not possibly wait until tomorrow, and even then it was sparingly.
All I can think about is how it feels to go home to a quiet room after a night of endless gabbing with my best friends. How it feels to exhaust your talkin' bone.
I long for that feeling again, though let me assure you, silence is surprisingly exhausting.
This morning I fought the desire to tell irresistibly funny stories, but now all I want is to say something. To say ANYTHING. Even if it's to comment on the weather or the room decisions of the winner of this season's Design Star. I want to be able to be the commentator of my own life again.
I knew I had it bad when I stared at the characters on SVU and was genuinely jealous of how freely they got to speak to each other.
Let's just say that tomorrow morning can't come too soon.

Peace, love and silent surrender,

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