The upper deck

2022-03-31 @Creative
By Vitaly Parnas

Speaking of silence, it’s not to be found aboard the cargo ship. Not outside the sleep hours. When is that? Ummm, roughly 10PM to 5AM. Yeah, most likely. Amazing. Eliminate the alcohol, the films, the internet, and the sleep cycle tends to mimic the sun. Otherwise, loud chatter permeates the vessel. Cell phones are heard transmitting Criolla music. Consider yourself fortunate not to encounter the blasting Bluetooth speaker, which someone must inevitably bring. And one does. Four times in succession, body torture horror films late into the night. Five-inch cell phone screen … cinematically rich sound. Oh, the films were already downloaded onto the phone. I didn’t know either … But the noise. Kids thunder through the corridors, along the cargo, underneath the tables, past the piles of luggage, yelling, whimpering, sobbing, profound excitation. Personal playground. The abrupt motor, loudest at the lower level, can interrupt sleep at even the upper deck. And though the quietest, it amplifies those weather extremes: the cool becomes the cooler, the hot, all the more blazing infernal. But it’s the least congested. If you struggle with this noise, just follow me underneath and witness that chaos. Well, perhaps later. And what is this putrefying stench? You don’t smell that? Anyway, all that goes to say, if you can’t deal with the unceasing noise machine, if you can’t harvest the silence within you, you shall suffer: all the more when not at your physical norm. Should you experience headaches or dizziness, for whatever possible reason … I don’t know, dehydration, poorly treated water, caffeine withdrawal, or the body simply ill-adapted to these conditions … regardless, you’ll suffer the more. The upper deck is the deceptively amplifying. The upper deck is a metaphor. Think about that. Anyway. Harvest the silence within you. Tame that sensitivity, lest it destroy you.

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