A Response to Ben

I did it. I took your advice. I sat in the cafeteria of my dorm, alone, during peak lunch hours. I tuned them out. Animal Collective blasting through my headphones, cutting my ears off from the strange and noisy outside world. I knit, to keep my fingers busy, and take occasional sips from my second cup of black coffee, burnt and lukewarm, as I watch the actions of strangers surrounding me. I can't really escape, not here at least. The term stranger only applies to eighty percent of the room, the rest familiar faces. I see my roommate across the cafeteria, contradicting my previous belief that she never leaves the room. Maybe soon I will try this on a bus with no destination in mind but sanity. I sit here longer, eyes watching, ears listening, fingers moving, all in familiar manners. I want so many things at once. I want to be invisible. I want to be noticed. I want to be part of this world to which I am nothing but an onlooker, an outsider. My iPod battery dies, breaking the barrier between my head and the reality I can't control. As my ears are once again flooded with the sounds of the outside world, the thought of being a part of this strange and noisy outside world makes my stomach do somersaults onto itself. Or, maybe it was the black coffee, burnt and lukewarm.