3 May 2016

recovery

somebody can hear someone playing Beethoven's moonlight sonata, and fucking up occasionally but pulling through, and hear that in entirely different ways. Maybe they hear it as a sad piece of music made even sadder by this demonstration of a performer who once had facility but is now tragically eroded. Or maybe they hear it as the fits and starts of a person recovering from a calamity, filling the hippocampus with laboured breath, slowly lighting those long dark neutral paths and persevering and finding his strength again.

Walled cities... the warp that wears off quicker than salvia... this is my channel, this is your channel... pre-mid-life-crisis. Ramalamas...