often seem to have listened so hard that if you put them end to end it would take years to listen to new ones in the background those not aware that they refuse to listen if you had a choice as we listen to those that would regret having known in advance so as not to suffer they instead are never tire of hearing again and again and stopped only because the attitude of the stream is still unhealthy and also the idea obviously you're never alone in this case that we are many and these discs butt form a sound version of our lives, not their soundtrack more than that a version that sounds that is to say such time as another thunderous noisy to some other room and how that music is played primarily instrumental leaves room for his own voice it is not necessarily high but it is present it talks about the music speaks for it music in the midst of hours of music in making it clear that our lives are in the midst of hours of music, stating again that our lives are not exactly in the middle they are somewhere in these hours of music including when there is no music when we stopped the music because we can not go on because the head is hit by these hours of music all hours of music are a way in the middle of my life more than that in the midst of all the lives you can imagine the moments I lived I would have loved those live ones I shared the ones I'd forgotten if only I could forget about the ones I know only too well that I love so now my head is struck by all those hours of music and this is not an author who writes but his skull that speaks his skull that makes sounds that echo the sounds when they are no longer audible my head is struck and resonant that I wrote is I broke even in the midst of these sounds
Photo: © Nathalie Siek ( http:/ / www.flickr.com/photos/tinemfou/ )
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