Fzz made the electric lightning that connected the plug to the guitar, as instant fuzz of white noise. No special need to touch the strings, the sound floated of itself, fingers, if anything, only channeling the music already there like an old radio capturing both poetry and static.
It - this pure sound -, which I found so effortlesly around, laying its own way concretely leaving no space space-free, was a sound found everywhere for as long as I've been alive. I don't recall when I first heard it, only that my first memory was of finding in it as much familiarity as I find in it now. It goes back to the early 90's, as my music-adoring cousins [I was, back then, nothing short of a musicless person; not particulary soulless, nor godless, but as an infant, I couldn't care less for faith or anything close to metaphysical; therefore, I couldn't care less for music] spend their afternoons of boring no-beach days around my grandpa' TV set watching vigorously what was new on MTV. I found it again as I came of age, in the realization of filosofical matters that made me a lot more eager to devour sounds as a mean of transcience, taking a back step to more knowledge then surfacing more and more inbetween songs until I heard songs only because I knew that I would find it there. I met it, in the last place where it marked a great change, on my girlfriend's ipod, riding the bus, hiding so profoundly on whatever her music is that its discovery could prenounce nothing but love. Now, this was not the only places I found it. In the right mood, of spirit or company, I've heard it even on the woods, blown by the wind to my ears, where it settled confortable and meaningful; the same way, it came on insone nights, as the dusk was drawing near and sleep seemed so far off - I wonder, halfway this line, where everybody I know should be at the time... - to make place for dreams; is was on the right set of arms, on the right ways of nights; it was soaked with good memories, and making light of the bad thoughts that make me monstruos and of the recollection of long-dreamed nightmares.
I met it again tonight, as a friend of ages ago, warming me up with everything I desired.
Wait.
With everything I desired - with, I dare to say, happiness - while I'm alone.
It's funny stuff, my man.
It - this pure sound -, which I found so effortlesly around, laying its own way concretely leaving no space space-free, was a sound found everywhere for as long as I've been alive. I don't recall when I first heard it, only that my first memory was of finding in it as much familiarity as I find in it now. It goes back to the early 90's, as my music-adoring cousins [I was, back then, nothing short of a musicless person; not particulary soulless, nor godless, but as an infant, I couldn't care less for faith or anything close to metaphysical; therefore, I couldn't care less for music] spend their afternoons of boring no-beach days around my grandpa' TV set watching vigorously what was new on MTV. I found it again as I came of age, in the realization of filosofical matters that made me a lot more eager to devour sounds as a mean of transcience, taking a back step to more knowledge then surfacing more and more inbetween songs until I heard songs only because I knew that I would find it there. I met it, in the last place where it marked a great change, on my girlfriend's ipod, riding the bus, hiding so profoundly on whatever her music is that its discovery could prenounce nothing but love. Now, this was not the only places I found it. In the right mood, of spirit or company, I've heard it even on the woods, blown by the wind to my ears, where it settled confortable and meaningful; the same way, it came on insone nights, as the dusk was drawing near and sleep seemed so far off - I wonder, halfway this line, where everybody I know should be at the time... - to make place for dreams; is was on the right set of arms, on the right ways of nights; it was soaked with good memories, and making light of the bad thoughts that make me monstruos and of the recollection of long-dreamed nightmares.
I met it again tonight, as a friend of ages ago, warming me up with everything I desired.
Wait.
With everything I desired - with, I dare to say, happiness - while I'm alone.
It's funny stuff, my man.
É engraçado ver um metaleiro falando de música. XD
ResponderExcluirSim, o comentário anterior foi gritantemente dotado de preconceito.
ResponderExcluirAcho que não é sobre música.
ResponderExcluirvocê me entendeu
ResponderExcluirSim. Mas tem gente que talvez não.
ResponderExcluir