This may sound a bit strange to those of you who know me, but there are times when (despite the fact that I am a total whore of the technology age) I wistfully ponder what it might have been like to live in an age that wasn’t quite so digitized.

One of the changes that I’ve noticed about myself, as I’ve gotten older, is my appreciation for silence. I never used to be this way. I can remember times when I always had some kind of noise in the background – usually music. I’d come home from work, and the first thing that I would do is turn on the stereo and throw in a CD. I’d listen to music in the car, while I was studying, while I was working…constantly. The only time I didn’t have music going was when I was sleeping (that, at the very least, has not changed – I still have a hard time getting to sleep unless it’s very dark and all the noises in the world are canceled out by some kind of white noise. Preferably a fan). Now? To be honest, most of the time if I listen to music at my desk it starts to kind of freak me out a bit. The sound becomes overwhelming, and it almost starts to feel like it is boxing me in. As if the noise had a physical shape and was wrapped around my head like a blanket. Loud noises, in general, have started to really disturb me. I suppose if I think about it, it’s always been the case. Raised voices inside of a small place like a home has been a pet peeve of mine for a long time, but it never bothered me to the point where it would set my nerves on edge. One of the reasons I spend so much time downstairs at The Castle (on the rare occasions that I ever actually go anymore), is because it isn’t so overwhelmingly loud down there that I can’t hear a person who is yelling in my ear.

Yes, yes…If it’s too loud, you’re too old. I know the saying.

I suppose I’m too old.

As much as enjoyed the entirety of our week on the boat and in St. Augustine, my favorite part hands down was the night that Krystalle and I sat together in St. Augustine and just quietly read. Followed closely by sitting on the porch swing and just watching people walk by.

It was quiet. Blissful silence.

I used to be bothered by too much silence. It used to make me uncomfortable. The constant cacophony that surrounded me prevented that silence from descending on me. Now? The complete opposite it true. I actually look forward to stillness. I have long periods where I don’t talk much, and I try to let my mind be still.

This is why I wonder what it was like in a time when it was…quieter. When we didn’t have iPods and cellphones and computers. When people weren’t constantly trying to drown out silence. When you could walk outside at any given time and just listen to nature.

I guess I’m just not “extreme” enough for the modern era, and that perhaps in many ways I’m more old-fashioned than I care to admit to. I have this rose-colored view of the past, and in it I see simpler times. I see people being more polite. I see more people taking pride in being educated and their work.

I…I don’t know what I see, really. I’m kind of all over the place here.

As recently as five years ago, I’d have told you that I’d have given anything to live someplace like New York City. Now? Who knows? Maybe I’d adapt to the noise in time, but my gut reaction says I’d completely freak.

God…reading this make me wonder if I haven’t developed some sort of Post-Traumatic Stress Syndrome noise anxiety disorder. Yeah….that’s it.

Can’t sleep…clowns will eat me.

Rambly post done now.