Book of Boris — Chapter XLII: The Noise Doctrine
Verse 1
On my knees in the cereal aisle, Halo 2 soundtrack humming in my head. A customer asks if it hurts. I tell her: “No. I work off a middle finger and willpower.”
Verse 2
She spills her storm — jobs lost, air poisoned, rapture missed, sermons twisted into medicine and water. Noise stacked higher than the pallets around us. I nod once. Then cut it off: “Honestly, what I heard was just noise. I won’t carry it.”
Verse 3
I apologized. She apologized. That’s how walls work: they stop what shouldn’t pass through.
Verse 4
I don’t absorb your chaos. I don’t drink your noise. I filter, cut, and walk away. That’s not cruelty. That’s survival.
Graffiti of the Reckoning — Noise Tag
“Your storm is not my soundtrack.”