Freewrite: 2006 "the theatre of banging"

 Is there a quiet place, a peaceful location i can stay and hear absolutely no noise. I suppose i could go into space. But that would be somewhat inefficient. Is there a place i can relax and have no interruptions? Why would i want that, and how long? I'm just typing meaningless crap aren't I. what the fuck. I don't know what to write. i want to write to pass the time but i cant concentrate. there is banging on the ceiling that just can't be ignored. there is nowhere for me to be. I'm in a theatre. The walls are black and the seats are blue. Unlike a usual theatre 

descriptions using assumed words versus simple definitions that define the situation without saying the more deep words.

how can i say theatre without using the word theatre.

it's too complex a word. there are many different assumptions of what a theatre could be, people have different experiences. it could be dark and have a steep incline with creaky seats and a tiny screen. There could be any number of people in the room.

We have to start with a blank room. that is the only thing there is. the most basic location. interior.

how big?

what shape?

the next qualities.

what about instead of shape and size

tell what those things define.

they define mood, atmosphere: whether it's cramped or stuffy or tight or relaxed. choice of words means everything.

what are the relevant qualities of the location, in relation to the story.

in here the impact on the character is important because it's ME!!

Although it's well lit and closed off, it is still a haunting experience. it's a quiet room inside, because there is no one here. The sound comes through the walls and ceiling all over like ghosts muffled talking and banging. the vacant seats stand like blue upholstered grave stones. The narrow rows lead to a modest raised area in front. A table stands unused like an abandoned player in an abandoned play. I sit among the seats, a one-man audience. The ceiling is clogged with heavy looking spot lights all aimed at the terrified table. Obnoxious voices resonate through the halls, performing their impromptu parts of life. The walls creak like they are filled with gnawing insects. it is amazing that such a calm, empty, silent room could be this distracting. My skin jumps each time the person in the ceiling jumps. The viscous dancing beast with logs for legs surprises me just when i start to get used to the ambient voices. City noise doesn't yield when it hits these walls, it seems to be a conspiracy to irritate me with any available noise making device. is it life's test of my patience? how and why could life test a person?