I know how to cope with this world. I need one less sense. I need to be deaf.

Right off the bat I’d save $60 a month on my phone bill. Thrifty.

I’d probably watch less TV and read more. #newyearnewme

What the hell else comes in my ear holes? Other people’s words? That brings me nothing but trouble.*

People would have to write down on a piece of paper, “hey, welcome back, how was your break, yeah, did you get up to much, yeah I spent Christmas day with the family, was really great, yeah”. It would force them to think, is it really worth writing all this out. Now I think about it, if talking wasn’t so easy, the world would be a better place. If we had something implanted that spat 1 drop of blood out onto our feet for every word we spoke. a) the world would be a very slippery place, b) people would begin to ration their words a little bit, communication would be literally, more thoughtful**.

I’d miss music, but my brain would learn to play this internally. Turn down the volume. Can you hear it?

I’d have a t-shirt that says “I’m deaf, but I didn’t want to talk to you anyway.” Maybe another that says “I’m deaf. Go on, let it all out.” And why not “Talk to the hand. Because I’m deaf” and when I saw someone reading it, I’d hold out my hand and do sassy-black-woman-head-wobble-mmmm-hmmmm.

I’d have little cards to hand out that say “I’m deaf” on one side and a set of phrases on the other. I would circle the appropriate phrase(s) before handing a card over.

  • I’m not being rude, my ears don’t work.
  • Large cappuccino one sugar, please.
  • I’m not interested in your cause. Your sunny disposition sickens me.
  • Stop being a jerk.

I would be in danger of getting that dopey deaf person voice, but as long as I used voice recognition software, that would be enough to keep my enunciation in check (ern thek). Google will tell me “sorry, I didn’t understand that” and not worry about hurting my feelings.

Fun fact, Helen Keller had a bachelor of arts degree. That doesn’t say much about art, does it. ***

* Actually being deaf wouldn’t make much of a difference. The voices have been bad over the last week. Maybe it’s melodramatic to call them voices; no one’s telling me to kill kittens or anything, but it’s non-stop words that I can’t get away from. Every person I walk past on the street says something angry to me. People that aren’t there have something to say to me. Any thought I think upsets someone in my head and they get mad or mock me. It’s been kinda really bad this week. Sometimes the lines get blurred between what a real person says to me and what the angry version of them in my head has said and I get mad at the real-world version.

It wears thin, having everyone be mad at you for every thought you have. The inside of my head used to be a private place, but now everyone has been let in, I have nowhere to go to be alone. But I’m trying to commit suicide less often, so I guess I’ll just ride it out and quietly hate existing. Bundle of joy, I am.

** Do you think you can use literally just to add emphasis, when you really mean figuratively? Well, you are right. The secondary meaning of literally (to add emphasis, synonymous with figuratively) has been in the Oxford dictionary since 1903. This is not a recent corruption of the language by the uneducated masses. Correcting the correctors releases my special-occasion dopamine.

*** Gets less funny the more you think about it.