Tinnitus is a perception of noise or a ringing in the ears that affects about 1 in 5 individuals. It has a variety of causes, middle age and genetic hearing loss being somewhere on that list. I am affected by it because of either too much time in tractors when I was younger or too much heavy metal (say it isn't so). At times, sometimes for weeks on end, I hear a high-pitched ringing. It's like when you're trying to tune your radio but you just get feedback. Oh, and that sound I hear? It's not real. I mean the sound seems real, but no one else can hear it. No one. I've asked.
I've decided that this condition has made me a better writer. I now have a much deeper understanding of those Joan of Arc-like characters who hear voices. I empathize with what it would be like to be a twitchy conspiracy theorist who can "hear" the wireless waves of the government in the air. Or, of course, I totally get what drives axe murderers to, well--you axed for it--to go out swinging.
But, of course, this constant ringing hasn't affected my own personality. After all here's proof:
All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy. All work and no play makes Art a dull boy.
Sincerely,
P.S. my next post will be titled How My Cold Has Made Me A Better Fantasy Writer. After all, if you've never had a cold, you could never write about those snotty-nosed trolls or really get to the deeper matter of their congested mindset.
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