It’s about mouth breathers, gum chewers, pen clickers, foot tappers, tick-tick-tick of wall clocks while waiting to be buzzed in, castanetted heel clicks, jingle jangle of bracelet charms, window wipers whacking away at rational thought, bass blasting from el comemierda’s car one lane over, a neighbor’s car alarm making you hulk out, a sister who keeps hitting snooze till you threaten throwing her alarm clock out the window, spoons scraping multiple tea cups, eliciting tears—instigating your first full-blown migraine in a universe where sound is an archenemy who delights in your downfall, who relishes the ringing in your radio-tuning ears, is gratified by your rising claustrophobia—harbinger of a panic attack prompting exile beneath bed sheets, exodus from charismatic church clapping, the too-loud organ, percussive continuity of rosary beads colliding into each other like planets in Crisis on Infinite Earths, the imperative to evacuate an accursed one-bedroom apartment in a building where windows are renovated day after day and roofers pound away after a heap of hurricanes, searing merenhouse lyrics tumba-la-casa-tumba-la-casa-tumba-la-casa in your brain forever.
A place for stories about chronic illness, disability, mental health, and neurodivergence.
