I Don't Want to Hear It

(Note: I am back to taking inspiration from "Thinking About Memoir" which has page after page of instructions to "Write two pages about....")
I don't want to hear about all your problems, if you don't also say what you are going to do about them. I don't want to hear about every little thing that bugs you. I don't want to hear that you can't, or won't, or don't want to. I don't want to hear that you are sad, depressed, frustrated, anxious, worried, angry or jealous. I don't want to hear that I have any negative effect on you whatsoever.
I don't want to hear anything at all about all the bad stuff that goes on in the world. I don't want to hear about murder, war, exploitation, elder abuse, famine, pollution, political corruption, child molestation, or global warming. I don't want to hear about how television and the internet are ruining us. I don't want to hear any rap, heavy metal or hip hop music booming out of the car next to me at the stop light.
I don't want to hear any of it. But I do. It enters me and runs around like crazy, trying to find a home in my psyche. It does not find a welcome home, and that only makes it crazier. If only there were a filter for all of this stuff, a protective barrier to keep it all away. I crave silence. If I could only have enough silence, I could start to hear my own self think. Then maybe I could figure out what to do with my life. But all the noise keeps coming at me. All the noise drowns out the silence, until I can barely breathe, let alone think. But the dictate is to keep on going, in spite of the cacaphony.
This is not a complaint. Because I KNOW you don't want to hear that.