Turn Up

Today’s Daily Prompt is volume and I’m going to tackle it in the literal sense. 
Sometimes I like to turn my music up high and really blast it. Now, as someone who gets headaches easily it isn’t wise. However, as someone who likes to block out all necessary noise it’s a must. 

I have something that we call misophonia, so background noise is real irritating to me. All of that every day chatter can be fine one day and painful the next. Loud conversations physical disturb me. Loud chewing. All of that. So I use volume as a shield. And also because I’d be lost without music. I am more of a headphones than a blast music via speakers girl. 

I live for those moments when I get excited by a song I’ve heard a million times before but still feel compelled to turn it up. It’s the small things in life, people. My personal earphone concerts have worked wonders for me over the years. 

Case in point: the most effective way for me to clean is to play my 80-song Backstreet Boys playlist. I turn it up and boom, two hours later, everything is much cleaner than it was before. 

I’m also one of those people that focuses by blasting music. I’ve had countless people tell me that they need silence but silence is bad for me. It gives me too much time to get lost in my own head and daydream. 

The music acts as a barrier and blocks out any outside noise. 

That’s the most important part. 


Without A Trace

People always leave you alone when you need someone. 

Or they bother you when you want to be left alone.

Some kind of invisibility shield is in order.

Disappear without trace. 

Reappear like you never left. 

Tap out of an unbearable situation

Tap into something unmissable 

Tune into an interesting conversation

Fade out of noisy frustration

Leave a hollow mark in your wake

The faint outline of who you were, who you tried to be, who you didn’t want to be. 

Only the dead disappear without a trace. 

This is a response to Trace. Call it a poem, freeform, rambling, whatever. I have no idea. 😂

Life, random

You’re so buff, I bet you think this post is about you

When I was young buff didn’t mean muscly, or steroid abuse, it meant hot. Scores of girls would pore over various boys and declare them to be ‘so buff’. To us that was the real meaning of the word. I’m sure some of the novel around that time aimed at giggling preteens will include buff. How dated it will seem now. These days I can barely keep up with the vernacular. 

It doesn’t help that for non-Americans, we have to keep up with our own words as well as whatever’s popular in the US. Although, Americans were late on the ‘sick’ being something good train. 

Luckily for me, whoever runs Urban Dictionary has kept it up all these years. It’s made me appear far more savvy than I actually am. 

Response to the Daily Prompt of – Buff


Forward is forward

Your speed doesn’t matter, forward is forward

I like this saying. I think it’s natural to want to catapult your way to success or whatever achievement you’re after, but mine times out of ten, it takes time. So much time. And sometimes progress is so fleeting that it feels like you’re going backwards. 

I have a habit of standing still because it’s better than dealing with the disappointment but… I’m going to try and shake myself out of that rut. 

This is a response to: CatapultDaily Prompt