An Easy Metaphor

Let me tell you something:

My iPod broke yesterday, and suddenly I'm on the 6 heading downtown without my earbuds. I'm exposed. I hear everything. And it's nice, because I'm able to give my seat up to an older woman and politely talk to her. But I also hear terrible people saying awful things.

And I guess you might say that having to face this half hour commute in the sort of silence so loud that it's literally distracting is exactly what I need. It's an easy metaphor to make: I have been walking around New York for the past year with my guard up, unable to experience the sweet because I have turned away from the bitter.

I suppose I can also argue that I am so aware and overly conscious that the moments I relieve myself from my acute observations, I am suddenly more vulnerable. Hence, my guard is down.

There is no right answer, suffice it to say that I draw comparisons where ever and however I see fit. And when the music is absent, something else must approximate the rhythm of the subway and the trilling of its tribe.