So, anyway, you're stuck with me on this entry. I hope it's not ruining your day. Luco said to say whatever I want, to like talk about something important to me, so here goes.
I hate music.
Maybe Longfellow wouldn't think so.
But anyway, to me music's just this totally annoying cacophony, and nothing else.
The prison guard, or MR as I call her, sits down at this organ and I shiver. I groan. I tear from the room like it's about to fill with water.
Music [myzoo-ick], also pronounced [crap]
1. A series of loud noises signifying impending doom.
2. Tones of horror or dread sounded to signify impending doom.
3. Works of random sounds played all together to signify impending doom.
4. A signal of impending doom.
I'm sorry. You're probably a music lover. Maybe classical, rock, hip hop, country, organ.... But to me it all sounds like that freezing moment of terror that icicles its way through my body, starting somewhere in my mouth and traveling down and through me, so that I know only I am going to die. And unlike Luco, I don't actually enjoy thinking about my own death. I'd rather think about pretty much anything else, honestly, hey, I'd even rather read 100 Years of Solitude, even though it sounds like the most depressing book ever written (which is probably why Luco's enjoying it so much - he claims it's not really that sad, but I don't believe him).
That's why, in these pictures, although perhaps I look like I'm posing (I'm told I always look like I'm posing), what I'm really doing is trying to kill this organ. If I could just break it, then MR would never be able to play it again. And perhaps I could relax!
Get some sleep. Then maybe the visions implanted in my brain could still remain....
Within the sounds of silence?