02/06/2026
When I was at uni in Paris, I used to live in a cool house with friends from Italy and Argentina. Since I was living with artists and philosophers, we used to invite a lot of people and sit around the table, drink wine and talk about many subjects…so Parisian!
In one of those discussions, I remember looking at those 15 mondaine false-burgoeis guys and girls seriously talking about politics and the meaning of life whilst I was fiddling with my glass getting bored to death. After 15 minutes or so, just for the sake of it, I got up, banged my fist on the table and said “I disagree”.
Everybody stopped stopped talking and awkwardly staring at me, like “what the hell is wrong with this fu*** up guy?”
I remember feeling stupid afterwards. because, once again, I was trying to fit somewhere I didn’t actually want to be. Instead of listening to myself and admitting that I was bored out of my mind, I stayed there pretending to be interested until my body finally rebelled and announced its disagreement on my behalf.
The funny thing is that I spent years doing that. Staying in conversations I didn’t enjoy. Following ideas that didn’t make sense to me. Listening to everybody except myself.
Sound helped me notice that pattern. Not because the gong gave me the answer to the meaning of life. Thankfully. There are already enough people on the internet claiming that.
It simply gave me enough quiet to notice when something felt true and when it didn’t.
Nowadays, when a room becomes too intellectual for me, I usually leave and go for a walk. Twenty-five-year-old Othman would have stayed for three more hours trying to look clever. Fifty-year-old Othman goes home.