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A loud blarring guitar is the seamless hum which we distrupt to draw out the beat of life. the smallest voice is not drowned out by the loudest but contributes to it's theme. Even what I say and write down now is only a passing thought on a road that leads to a trip-up, regret. Nothing is taken but absorbed A soul is made to forget, and forgetfulness is a doorway to hell, silenced, pleasant to the eye and ear, because silence is golden and poverty is something only the truly brilliant want. Words speak volumes, but only to the speaker |