I remember one particular morning, during that first period while sitting on a bench, behind the desk, as usual feeling completely lost, depressed and too hot in that stiff cotton high collared uniform, that the teacher came and announced the same boring pointless chapter, but also with that proposed one of the rare interactive activities slightly designed to make the students connect with the words, not by the pressure of academic excellence, but of emotion and the lust of knowledge.
I remember closing my eyes, with nearly thirty other uniformed strangers, and listening to what I heard. What sounds, what noises, what voices, that showed us the incredible function of our ears- one of the five sense organs- that help us communicate.
I remember feeling the bullying, the meanness, the disconnect with those that surrounded me slip away. Maybe I could be here forever, in this heightened state of awareness, not having to talk, to try, to reason with anyone and all who abused and trampled those who were different than they were. All of those who hid their own uniquities to desperately fit in and make sense of what they felt.
I remember wondering if I could have slipped away that day, leaving behind the unnecessary, uncomfortable body of mine. Slipped away, lost to the ricocheting sounds creating the echoes on the walls of my head..