What hybernation has taught me so far

I've always told people that I can never live in the province. I've lived in the city ever since I can remember. I grew up in a crowded district of Manila called Tondo. There, the only private time you have is when you go to sleep. Sleep is private because that is the only time your consciousness is separate from everything else. In our neighborhood, houses were divided only by walls. The walls themselves don't seem to provide much seclusion to each family in the area. Whenever Tiyang Delma would engage in a heated argument with his sons, all of us living nearby would know. Even if you tone down your voice, you'd make an impression to the neighbors that something's wrong, one way or the other. Those living near by would hear it when you slam the door, throw a book, stomp your feet. Perhaps this is why the people in our part of the city grow up to be so loud: there is no use in toning down. There is no use in hiding your anger under a soft voice. People will find out eventually. When you're mad, you should might as well express rage at the fullness of tone. Might as well fuel your words with intensiveness. Why bother hiding behind the suppression of whisper?

I have become accustomed to the city: the dirty air from cars, the noise, the lives of people happening in front of me. I have come to realize that when I say that I can't live in the province, I am expressing the fear I have of own thoughts. In the place where I grew up, there is always something else to think about. There is always something to capture my attention. Something louder than what I have to say. I've been trying to isolate myself from the noise the past couple of days, and what it has done so far is to push to my consciousness reflections.

I have cut the time I spent in the internet and avoided networking and and messenger sites. The past few days that I have done so felt like moving into a province. Before, when I open my computer in the morning, the first thing I would do is to look at my Twitter and Face book accounts. And already, it's the lives of people starts flashing in front of me. What they're doing, how they feel, what interests them. Sure the status messages flashing in feeds are just projections, but isn't it that the same is true with everything we know about the people around us? Aren't they all projections? To cut myself from the virtual world is like withdrawing from the addiction of living in the denseness of the city. You are cut off. As the metropolitan noise fades slowly, your thoughts start to become louder. At first, it was frightening: my own thoughts. My desires. My worries. I can't remember when I last heard it talk to me so loudly and unfazed. And what is more bothering is how it is so unfamiliar.