https://padlet.com/cyphrases/f5h090dbfcvx30v1 Made by Halesha. en-us 2022-03-23 19:14:01 UTC 2022-10-11 06:36:20 UTC hello@padlet.com cyphrases https://padlet.com/cyphrases/f5h090dbfcvx30v1/wish/2110412102 ^{Three hours down a road of obscure indie-electro-pop music, shadow dancing to verses knows too well, or not at all, breathing with the click like the air is too thin or the smog too thick, reciting lines of sung poetry and begging to understand. Listen to the same bands but we’re versed with a different dance, moves with the intention of a scientist, i concave bruised limbs of an anarchist, but it’s art either way, lips that part with the lilt in the melody, legs that break with the drop of the bass, performance art with no audience. Music is strange. One minute you’re quiet. The next strange sounds are coming from your lips without words or vision. Build beauty, beauty that is only contained by what imagine. Voices in a choir, melding into a singular entity, rich baritone and soprano’s silver chimes. An old violin with the smallest movement. The air is filled with emotions and molasses, ivory keys, responding to the slight touch. Of a pianist and her pale dancing hands, drums of every kind, wood or metal or hide. Like a hundred heartbeats to the sound of a sea. Sorrow, dripping slowly. Melancholy sweetness that never quite leaves. Fear, permeating the dissidents. That tune you can never quite place. Wrath, in all it’s bittersweet glory. Like bleeding rose petals in midsummers heat. Longing, every song that lingers. Music that knows and traces your desire sometimes music is lemon peels. Sharp and tangy. Sometimes the darkest ganache, clinging delight in bitterness. Sometimes lavender soft, tired, and melodic. Beautiful music can never truly end.}]]> 2022-03-23 19:14:56 UTC https://padlet.com/cyphrases/f5h090dbfcvx30v1/wish/2110412102