The beep.
Since the beginning of the year (probably the beginning of time), there has been a beep that can only be heard late at night, when the world, and even the dorm, has gone to sleep and I'm laying in bed. Every night when I hear the sound, I whisper into the dark, "Rosalie, do you hear that?" and she always mumbles "Yeah." It's not incredibly loud, just a steady, medium pitched beep. One note, that goes on forever. Although human beings are inevitably unnerved by prolonged or repetitive sounds, we are usually able to desensitize ourselves and learn to ignore it. However, when there is no other sound to concentrate on, that task becomes much difficult. It's all I can focus on. What's worse is that it is an anomaly because it's a mystery. The beep is without context. I have no idea where it comes from, what it comes from, or what cause it. It's like a word without a signifier, meaningless. When a sound it meaningless, I believe it inevitably turns into noise. It has no place in my soundscape because I can't understand it's relevance. This semester studying sound, I've come to realize how integral a sounds significance is. A sound is not a carnal noise, it is implicated with meaning and context, both of the sound and the listener. As a college student, I live in a dorm that's kept by people removed from me. I have no one to ask about the beep. I also have a certain arsenal of sounds I'm familiar with, and this is not in it. In all my years as a hearing-abled being, I've not encountered a sound such as the beep, or at least not one that I've payed much attention to. One day, maybe I'll figure out where the beep originates from and I can justify it's existence, discriminate it's meaning and it's place in my soundscape. Maybe it will forever haunt me at night and I'll never know where the sound comes from, even after the beep seizes to exist.












