I never know whether or not to say these things privately or publicly.
The concept of appropriateness has always been a bit blurry to me.
So in order to avoid confusion, I have decided to say this privately to the public:
"New York is food for my hungry ears."
My ears have always been hungry. I'm an auditory junkie. And I get my fix here. Here's how it works:
I. My Head Is Very Noisy
My head has always been very noisy. Ever since I was a child. Sometimes it gets so noisy, I think I'm hearing what I'm only thinking.
Whenever this happens, I enter a state of confusion. "How can I hear a thought? Thoughts enter the mind, not the ears."
So I attempt to rectify this disconnect by speaking out loud the thought (or thoughts) that I think I'm hearing. In other words, I talk to myself; and that's when things start to make sense again. "No wonder I'm hearing what I'm thinking! I'm speaking what I'm thinking and that's what I'm hearing!"
However, most of my life, I've mumbled and not spoken. I mumble because I have always been at least peripherally aware of other people. I mumble things under my breath and out of their hearing range. Things like--"I wish they'd get the fuck out of here so I could talk to myself."
II. New York, Like My Head, Is Also Very Noisy
Because of the continuum of head and city noise that New York enables, I've always felt comfortable here not only publicly mumbling to myself, but publicly speaking out loud to myself, publicly shouting at myself, or publicly acting out multi-character comedic vignettes with myself. Consequently, the entire city becomes a much-needed rehearsal space for new ideas.
There is so much happening here at any given moment in any given location that nobody has time to concern themselves with the ramblings of a lone madman.
And knowing this makes me comfortable. Because it allows me to fully be who I really am:
A lone madman.
III. SUMMATION: The New York Process Of Acquiring Food For My Hungry Ears
A. My head gets loud and I think I hear my thoughts
B. I speak the thoughts I think I am hearing
C. I shape what I'm speaking into a live bit, a podcast idea, a blog entry; something
And then I rest for a moment.
And then it all comes echoing back to me in the aural tidal wave that is New York.
And then my head gets noisy again.
I've always loved the sound of the ocean.
