Memory Vignette

As I sit in the conference room, the gentle hum of the heater catches my attention. To the others it is simply white noise. They are too busy talking over it to realize its musical quality. I of course would rather not be here having the same conversation the 6 of us have had countless times before and I wish that the hum would turn into a roar and mask their voices for once. I think for a moment about this. These individuals, or friends, as I am told they are to me, do to me what they have done to the gentle flow of air between a vent. They mask my voice as well. The only way they seem to hear me is when I scream out profanities or make cruel comments that will make them laugh. My ideas however are lost, disregarded, and unimportant to their own selfish habits of talking and thinking and believing that their ways are best. I after all have all of the experience in this sort of thing, but I continue to be the white noise that they are too loud to hear. This is when I am truly invisible. I raise my voice and do the only thing I know how to do in order to be heard. I buy in to the word bashing and belittling of our superiors, more our tyrants as I recall calling them. I buy in like a tired, weary gambler buys into another bet. I wonder how this roulette wheel will turn, in my favor or against it. In an instant I know that it will be against me and I have lost the game. My reason has faltered on account of needing to be heard. I was heard. I was more than white noise for a second. For a second my invisibility ceased and now I question if it was worth it to be seen.