The Harsh Noise Wall

We try and fail to grasp infinity, which is all thanks to these oversized brains of ours. We must realize infinity is but a single thought floating about in a sea of many crashing about in your skull. We exist in a finite space in a finite time and the science of this state pulls our strings. Our priority is not to live, rather, it is our priority not do die. Our body, acutely aware of this, feels pain persistently and all over. Gravity has a powerful push. Machines prolonging their existence, we are. There is meaning to be found in this, that is, there is emotion to be felt. Smiles to give and grab, the arts, laughter, affirmation. These make the universe live for a short time. But what mustn't be denied is that nature is spinning us like a twister. The continuous wars stinging your mind and burning down your neighbors house as the clouds rain fish and toads shall follow you from the maternity ward to the grave. This can be wonderful.
To transcend the science of the earth, we must at times nail ourselves to it. We must occasionally feel our bodies defending themselves fervently against the evermore fervent elements tickling you with feathers of cactus prickles. We must sometimes force ourselves to accept our mortality. We must every once in a while curl into ourselves. If we affirm ourselves in the remorseless, finite nature of our microscopic and gargantuan existences, the universe breaths much easier.
The harsh noise wall. Completely unchanging, completely cranked, completely spectral, completely unforgiving explosions of dark, crunching static. It's perfect! All other sounds are completely canceled out as you sit there, making patterns out of the painful, lightspeed sound crushing you into complete external void. Your mind, temporarily completely alone in the universe, begins hearing sounds in the noise that aren't exactly there. It's almost like making your own compositions under the incessant torture of whoever built the wall in service.  Wall noise creates purity and isolation, it makes the world as solipsistic as your toddler years, and it nails you to the painful earth. While you're nailed to this painful earth, you can either smile and let the universe breath, or frown and let the universe sink in melancholy quicksand. I prefer the first one. Don't renounce the pain, receive the pain!