By the flash of a neon light that split the night
Today I finished my homework early for the most part, and then I had a very interesting dinner with my parents, during which we talked about college, my father's ex-girlfriends, raw French steaks, and how to tell your friend she has body odor. Now I'm sitting here in my room and I'm the only one upstairs and it's really strange and quiet because it's the first time in a while that I haven't had music playing.And now it's not quiet anymore, because I decided to play the vlogbrothers videos that I'm behind on in the background while I write this. That's so weird, quiet. I was somewhere last week - I don't remember where, exactly. A backstreet in one of the cities we visited, I think. Probably with a few other people, and maybe we just stopped talking for a few minutes, or I stopped to take a picture, and then I noticed just how quiet it was. No cars or sirens or crowds of people, or even birds. Just silence.
One of the first things Flipsy and I talked about when we got off the plane in Boston was how loud it was. It was almost like a hum - not sirens or screaming, but just sound. It wasn't immediately noticeable, but when we did notice, it was almost startling.
Ah, never mind. I'm not sure what I'm trying to say. I guess quiet is tricky. I hate being in cars when there isn't any music playing - but sometimes silent is nice. Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again.
