Curse you, drywall

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A girl singing in the house; gigantic headphones cover the walls.
Illustration by Iryna Presley / The Cascade

I enjoy singing more than I like to admit. I used to sing to my heart’s desire every time I drove alone, worry-free about anyone unintentionally hearing me. Sometimes, I would also sing in my room since the concrete walls helped suppress any noise. Singing without the fear of disturbing others’ peace and quiet is great, but since I moved to Canada, I’ve yet to find a space where I can comfortably do so. As it turns out, drywall isn’t great at absorbing sound, so that leaves me aching to sing, but scared shitless to be heard and become a noisy neighbour.

As the saying goes, necessity is the mother of invention. I’ve thought of plastering my closet with acoustic foam panels and covering my mouth with the thickest pillow I have in the hopes that it’ll dampen the loud decibels, but I still worry the sound will leak out somehow. I’ve even fantasized about getting a soundproof booth, but that is and will forever remain just a wish. Too darn expensive. Alas, I won’t die from singing deprivation; it’s fine. Still, it’d be nice if the walls of my current room were more soundproof.

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