I can hear through space and time. It’s actually a bit of a shit superpower…
I spent ten good minutes trying to find the lyrics to the Beck song Insomnia, only to remember, finally, that the song was, in fact, called Nausea. Irony not lost; I feel sick. A sleepless sickness that has filled my head with constant white noise that offers me no comfort, such that a white noise machine would and should.
My hearing is akin to that of a German Shepherd. I’m the police dog of people. There’s a good half dozen times each day that I cock my head and someone will inevitably say “what is it girl” like I’m some crime-solving cartoon canine.
Knock, knock: My neighbour was found dead in his unit this week. My other neighbour had noticed a lot of flies in his window and called the police for a welfare check. He’d been there for months. No next of kin. I still hear a knocking coming from his place, I know it, I’m sure of it, I just don’t know what to do about it. I knocked back once, it stopped. Guess I’ll move.
Or die too.
Flag poles: I can hear the flag poles at the MCG clanging in the wind, clinking in the distance. I can’t yell at a flagpole. The frustration of being unable to do anything about something that makes me want to punch a wall, is an agony in itself. ‘Clang, clang, clang with the flagpole, ding, ding, ding with my brain’
Train horns: When you’re on a platform, a train horn is stroke-inducingly startling, but when your’re in bed, it’s a feeble hoot, but a hoot nonetheless. A gentle hoot in the night, but at 17 minute intervals.
Ubers and drunks: My driveway is a wide, inviting alcove that lures cars to pull over on my narrow and crowded street for respite. For a cigarette break, to wait for a mate, to talk loudly on the phone, engaging in deep and meaningful conversations at 4am or arguments at 2am (side bar, at what age do people do learn vocal volume control?). I live in a single-glazed apartment block. I’d like to think my neighbours (the live ones) are grateful for the fact that it’s always me that dons pants and marches down to gently* scold and suggest they move on.
Nose valve: When you ’re asleep, truly asleep, there’s a little click or slap noise that your nose makes, like a valve opening and closing. It’s not snoring and it’s not annoying, it let’s me know you’re truly asleep. It’s frustratingly comforting. I’m not mad about it, i’m glad you're sleeping. Really sleeping.
Leaf blowers: I’ve got no time for you. A few weeks ago I barked from my balcony at the arrogant head of my body corporate who was operating a leaf blower on a 12 meter driveway at 7:30am. Get a fucking broom and spend time instead repairing the water-swollen doors and windows that are causing mould in all of our properties you numb-nuts. Leaves, really? Leaves? Leave it alone.
Birds: I will find you, and I will throw a rock at you. Every fucking morning. What are you yelling at? I know what you’re yelling at, I know enough about birds to understand it’s either a territorial dominance or a mating call, believe me, I’ve got every book on birds ever written. But I will hurl a pebble at the fucking Anthochaera (Wattle bird)that wakes me up at 6am daily barking incessantly. That is…assuming I’ve not already been awake since 4am.
*gentle, in an WWE way.
