Write It Down, Without a Sound
Journal Entry: Thirty Six - Thirty Eight
July 15th
Dear Journal,
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn’t mute. If I didn’t have that accident as a kid with the boiling water. Would my life be roughly the same as to what it is right now? Would I be different from current self? Still shy? More outgoing? Did better or worse in school? Have different friends, have slightly different relationships with the people I know, what job would I have, would I have the chance to go on tour with the guys, could have I been friends with them sooner? The list of questions can go on forever, large and small.
I like to daydream about it sometimes, go over past moments and conversations in my head and wonder how they would have gone if I talked instead of wrote my responses. At the same time is scares me, because though it’s difficult sometimes, maybe even frustrating, I like how I am. I like the person I am and how I view the world in ways most people either don’t or ignore. For example; listening to people’s tone of voice or their expression as they speak. A lot of people don’t notice that, the small things like that unless they make a point to be aware of it. I do, mostly because I find it fascinating though I’m not great at it.
I wonder if I was always able to speak, would I have noticed that? Would I find it interesting as I do? More endless questions.
Today I was talking to John about this a little. I ask if he thought I would be a different person if I wasn’t mute. He said “Yeah, I think so. But you wouldn’t be different by much, I don’t think it would have changed you much personality wise. Maybe be more, um, outspoken then you are now maybe. You would still have a good heart.”
No one ever told me I had a good heart before. That I was nice, yes, but not something of that description. I was a little shocked for a moment there. He just smiled and nudged me with his elbow playfully. John’s always good to talk about things like this; he’s very open minded and thinks about things in a different light than what most people do. It’s certainly one of the good things about him.
The comment reminded me of what Kennedy said a while go: “Despite the fact you’re the quietest person I know, in more ways than just vocal, I like how you’re the loudest person I know. Not one gesture or look says any less than a thousand words.”
That made me quite shocked too. For a moment I thought it was just 3am rambling but when he looked at me in such an honest serious way, I knew it was something he spent a lot of time thinking about. Something he really believed. Mum said something simular of that to me a couple of times but no one else has ever mentioned it. I blushed bright red (thankfully it was dark in the back lounge) and typed thankyou on my phone for him to see.
I’m not good with complements. Not used to them but since I’ve been on this bus the guys have said so many nice thing to me, like it was a normal every day thing. I’m still getting used to it.
On a random note – Garrett just stole Guard Bunny and ran away laughing. For some reason he’s had some odd thrill of taking him, namely when I’m in my bunk. I think he’s trying to get me to throw something at his head, no one believed him when I did that a few days ago after he returned back late for a tour party and woke me up after a bad day.
Wow, I actually made a proper Journal entry of sorts. Then again I had time tonight, early bus call + nothing to do = a hell of lot of free time to be bored. I could keep writing, I should while I’m on a roll but there is only so long you can stand to be squashed up in your bunk in uncomfortable positions to be able to write. There is only so long you can handle being in your bunk period, most days. I’m a bit restless tonight, too much sugar today or something.
Most of the guys are doing their own thing tonight but someone is watching a movie in the back lounge. Might see what they’re watching or see if anyone wants to play cards. Better find where Garrett put Guard Bunny too I guess, probably under the couch cushion again.
Hopefully I can get another good entry in tomorrow. Sounds like tomorrow is going to be roughly the same as today for times, from what I overheard Tim say this afternoon anyway.
I hope I get internet time to Skype my parents tomorrow; I haven’t got to talk to them much over the last few days. I wonder if they are still fighting over who gets the computer during times I’m online, ha.
July 16th
Dear Journal,
The weather today was horrible. Rain, wind and even a couple of distant thunder claps. Nothing like the last storm thankfully. I don’t think I could go through something like that again so soon.
I think the weather had everyone feeling down, the bus was a lot quieter today. Being a travelling day everyone slept in late as possible and did their own thing. I stayed in my bunk up until midday reading the current novel I’m on and did a little bit of drawing.
We stopped for lunch at McDonalds briefly; in, use toilet, get food and run back the bus before you got too wet. Pat fell over and half landed in a puddle and ended up soaked. Almost everyone nearly tripped over that unnoticeable crack in the walk way, he was just the unlucky one that couldn’t regain his footing.
After lunch I went back to my bunk to listen to music to find this Kennedy shaped pillow stealing my fluffy blanket. And crikey! Was the thing tall! HA. Somehow he managed to make enough room for me though my arm was hanging off the bunk for a fair while. We talked for a while about the book I was reading that I left of my pillow where Kennedy found it. After a while we listened to music on my MP3. Kennedy was quite surprised of my 60s, 70s and 80s rock playlists. My parents listened to that type of music at lot; I grew up listening to it. I know the lyrics to more of those songs than I can name.
I don’t know how long we were squished in my bunk for. Reminded me of being a kid and making a fort with a friend using the small kitchen table and lots of blankets. I think I have written this before, probably a couple of times now but it’s always great to hang out with Kennedy, lazing around and talking. I love spending time with him and I love how my lack of speech doesn’t change anything when we hang out like this, how he doesn’t let my disability chance things. Not many people go out of their way to do that, but he does and I’m very grateful for it. Sometimes is can be a huge breath of relief when having to deal with other people that find it awkward to communicate during the day while I’m working.
Not sure where I want to take this entry now. I’m a bit tired tonight and finding it hard to think of much to write that isn’t the same bored sounding daily activities of my life.
Knowing me I’ll think of something once I’m in bed and about five minutes away from falling asleep. That’s always the way, isn’t it?
July 17th
Dear Journal,
I think I might like him. More than just a friend. This is the first time I have admitted it to myself, sort of, kind of. I don’t know.
I’m scared. I haven’t liked a guy since high school. Not even sure if what I’m feeling is that or just happiness that I have such a good friend, a close friend that I can fully trust and fell like I can be myself around them. I haven’t had that for a while, a long time actually.
I may have let myself admit there is something, but there is no way I’m letting him find that out. No way, no how.
Dear Journal,
Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn’t mute. If I didn’t have that accident as a kid with the boiling water. Would my life be roughly the same as to what it is right now? Would I be different from current self? Still shy? More outgoing? Did better or worse in school? Have different friends, have slightly different relationships with the people I know, what job would I have, would I have the chance to go on tour with the guys, could have I been friends with them sooner? The list of questions can go on forever, large and small.
I like to daydream about it sometimes, go over past moments and conversations in my head and wonder how they would have gone if I talked instead of wrote my responses. At the same time is scares me, because though it’s difficult sometimes, maybe even frustrating, I like how I am. I like the person I am and how I view the world in ways most people either don’t or ignore. For example; listening to people’s tone of voice or their expression as they speak. A lot of people don’t notice that, the small things like that unless they make a point to be aware of it. I do, mostly because I find it fascinating though I’m not great at it.
I wonder if I was always able to speak, would I have noticed that? Would I find it interesting as I do? More endless questions.
Today I was talking to John about this a little. I ask if he thought I would be a different person if I wasn’t mute. He said “Yeah, I think so. But you wouldn’t be different by much, I don’t think it would have changed you much personality wise. Maybe be more, um, outspoken then you are now maybe. You would still have a good heart.”
No one ever told me I had a good heart before. That I was nice, yes, but not something of that description. I was a little shocked for a moment there. He just smiled and nudged me with his elbow playfully. John’s always good to talk about things like this; he’s very open minded and thinks about things in a different light than what most people do. It’s certainly one of the good things about him.
The comment reminded me of what Kennedy said a while go: “Despite the fact you’re the quietest person I know, in more ways than just vocal, I like how you’re the loudest person I know. Not one gesture or look says any less than a thousand words.”
That made me quite shocked too. For a moment I thought it was just 3am rambling but when he looked at me in such an honest serious way, I knew it was something he spent a lot of time thinking about. Something he really believed. Mum said something simular of that to me a couple of times but no one else has ever mentioned it. I blushed bright red (thankfully it was dark in the back lounge) and typed thankyou on my phone for him to see.
I’m not good with complements. Not used to them but since I’ve been on this bus the guys have said so many nice thing to me, like it was a normal every day thing. I’m still getting used to it.
On a random note – Garrett just stole Guard Bunny and ran away laughing. For some reason he’s had some odd thrill of taking him, namely when I’m in my bunk. I think he’s trying to get me to throw something at his head, no one believed him when I did that a few days ago after he returned back late for a tour party and woke me up after a bad day.
Wow, I actually made a proper Journal entry of sorts. Then again I had time tonight, early bus call + nothing to do = a hell of lot of free time to be bored. I could keep writing, I should while I’m on a roll but there is only so long you can stand to be squashed up in your bunk in uncomfortable positions to be able to write. There is only so long you can handle being in your bunk period, most days. I’m a bit restless tonight, too much sugar today or something.
Most of the guys are doing their own thing tonight but someone is watching a movie in the back lounge. Might see what they’re watching or see if anyone wants to play cards. Better find where Garrett put Guard Bunny too I guess, probably under the couch cushion again.
Hopefully I can get another good entry in tomorrow. Sounds like tomorrow is going to be roughly the same as today for times, from what I overheard Tim say this afternoon anyway.
I hope I get internet time to Skype my parents tomorrow; I haven’t got to talk to them much over the last few days. I wonder if they are still fighting over who gets the computer during times I’m online, ha.
July 16th
Dear Journal,
The weather today was horrible. Rain, wind and even a couple of distant thunder claps. Nothing like the last storm thankfully. I don’t think I could go through something like that again so soon.
I think the weather had everyone feeling down, the bus was a lot quieter today. Being a travelling day everyone slept in late as possible and did their own thing. I stayed in my bunk up until midday reading the current novel I’m on and did a little bit of drawing.
We stopped for lunch at McDonalds briefly; in, use toilet, get food and run back the bus before you got too wet. Pat fell over and half landed in a puddle and ended up soaked. Almost everyone nearly tripped over that unnoticeable crack in the walk way, he was just the unlucky one that couldn’t regain his footing.
After lunch I went back to my bunk to listen to music to find this Kennedy shaped pillow stealing my fluffy blanket. And crikey! Was the thing tall! HA. Somehow he managed to make enough room for me though my arm was hanging off the bunk for a fair while. We talked for a while about the book I was reading that I left of my pillow where Kennedy found it. After a while we listened to music on my MP3. Kennedy was quite surprised of my 60s, 70s and 80s rock playlists. My parents listened to that type of music at lot; I grew up listening to it. I know the lyrics to more of those songs than I can name.
I don’t know how long we were squished in my bunk for. Reminded me of being a kid and making a fort with a friend using the small kitchen table and lots of blankets. I think I have written this before, probably a couple of times now but it’s always great to hang out with Kennedy, lazing around and talking. I love spending time with him and I love how my lack of speech doesn’t change anything when we hang out like this, how he doesn’t let my disability chance things. Not many people go out of their way to do that, but he does and I’m very grateful for it. Sometimes is can be a huge breath of relief when having to deal with other people that find it awkward to communicate during the day while I’m working.
Not sure where I want to take this entry now. I’m a bit tired tonight and finding it hard to think of much to write that isn’t the same bored sounding daily activities of my life.
Knowing me I’ll think of something once I’m in bed and about five minutes away from falling asleep. That’s always the way, isn’t it?
July 17th
Dear Journal,
I think I might like him. More than just a friend. This is the first time I have admitted it to myself, sort of, kind of. I don’t know.
I’m scared. I haven’t liked a guy since high school. Not even sure if what I’m feeling is that or just happiness that I have such a good friend, a close friend that I can fully trust and fell like I can be myself around them. I haven’t had that for a while, a long time actually.
I may have let myself admit there is something, but there is no way I’m letting him find that out. No way, no how.
♠ ♠ ♠
Thoughts? Thanks for reading, hope you liked it :)