A world without words

Today on the bus two young women gabbed at each other for many miles. There seemed barely a time for breath, just a constant stream of words. If they heard one another I could not tell. I marveled at their ability to produce such a continuous volume of words. I can't do that. I wouldn't want to.

It's like the feeling of claustrophobia but it's not that. It's a mental pressure that makes me feel cornered or trapped. I've had it since childhood. I've never talked with anyone about it, I just know that if it gets too noisy or too crowded I have to go outside. It's like the noise in my head grows exponentially based on the number of people crowding around and talking a little too closely to me. A certain pitch of voices or the prospect of endless chatter is about the same to me as someone ceaselessly banging pots near my ears, it drives me crazy. I suspect my sister would claim this is a symptom from the autism spectrum and I couldn't refute it. I don't want to be rude but I suffer if I stay.

I find peace in this work...in capturing images and working with them. I love dawn for the same reason, because humans don't like to rise too early and I find myself alone in the world, hearing little, seeing everything. I like meetings of two or three. I can listen and I can talk. More than five and I can only listen, by the time I have the words the moment has passed. I accept that, in conversation, at best I am deliberate, if slow. At worst, I give up and won't even try to get a word in edgewise. I'll just be content to listen and enjoy if I am able.

There is a world without words. I have seen it. I wish others saw it more often.

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