I had to get a crown last week. It was a temporary crown and I have to go back to get the “permanent” crown put in next week when it comes back from the “lab”.
In the meantime, the silence is deafening.
I believe that the tooth, or remnants of it, is possibly infected. Maybe not.
The compulsion of wanting to be heard is reaching a fever pitch. The result of which is desperation and that is almost always terminal.
During this moment is the great silence and I occupy myself with ideas and potentialities. What to do next? What would get traction? How can I make this silence end?
It’s something that demands representation but it’s existence is the void. To represent the desperation of isolation one is left with nothing but the wind and the ever present silence that ceases to be and turns into a roar.
You can’t hear yourself think and much like the constant ache from the crown time is your enemy. Endurance only lasts for so long and the silence and the pain drive one mad with their desperation and the tense, anxious energy that has gotten built up collapses into itself and leaves you in stasis. Alone in a chair in a quiet room with no energy to even contemplate another thought.