Friday, February 11, 2011

Baby, It's Loud Outside



The boyfriend and I sleep in the closet! When we first moved in, the bed was in the junior bedroom, by the windows, street side. It didn’t stay like that for long.

I’m from a smaller, quieter town. It was so noisy here, cars driving by constantly, bus stop out front, trash compacter at five in the morning, construction at eight am, and of course, people screaming and yelling all night. I couldn’t sleep. After a few days, we rearranged the rooms, the closet which was going to be the computer/office became the bedroom. There’s no windows, it’s dark, and best of all, quiet. The clothes still hang in the closet at the end of our queen sized mattress.

It's still noisy! The Tenderloin brings something out in people, a crazy primal something. It's pretty much the only place where screaming all your thoughts at the top of your lungs is an acceptable form of communication. Whether it's drug deals gone wrong, or relationships on the rocks, people like to express themselves for all the world to hear, the streets of the Tenderloin acting as their stage, and they're all playing the lead, after all, no matter what time of day.

Over time, I've become unafraid of judgment for talking to myself out loud while walking down the street. If I want to say, "Hey, what's that thing you forgot at home, oh yeah, the list of groceries, what was on that list"...all out loud, just chatting it up with myself, cool, no one thinks you're any weirder or freakier than anyone else walking around here, you're probably one of the more "normal" ones.

In June 2010, some people put together a visual representation of how loud the Tenderloin can get on any given day, check it out, it's cool, oh, did I say that out loud, or to myself? I just don't know the difference anymore!

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