=mental confetti=

I have long fantasized about being mute. What a joy to be relieved of the pressure of speaking—of the anxieties and expectations of communication! I could be, as I've always wanted to be, as close as humanly possible to an invisible observer in the presence of others—a ghost, in effect. I've tried to imagine that there might be a doctor somewhere willing to mutilate my vocal chords in such a way as would make this possible. On several occasions, I even went so far as to pretend I couldn't talk when out and about among strangers. But I could never pull off this act for long. For one thing, I felt too guilty and embarrassed when I saw how put-out and disgusted shopkeepers, ticket-takers, etc. were when I indicated my inability to speak and passed them a note answering their questions instead. It would have been one thing if I really couldn't have spoken, but as it was, I was just making an unnecessary pain in the ass of myself with my fake handicap. I was also, paradoxically, if only momentarily, making myself more visible. So I'm back to imagining there is a doctor out there somewhere who will perform an elective mutilating surgery on my vocal chords, thereby making my dream a reality.