Music For Withered Leaves And Lonely Fishtanks

Something warm and crispy is tickling the inside of my ear canal. It travels through my cochlear labyrinth, where the sensory hair cells sway with the vibrations and generate electric signals, which in turn fire the synapse towards my primary auditory cortex. Somewhere within the Wernicke’s area of my cerebral cortex it all makes sense, and my hand moves, and my heart palpitates, and the trees sway, and the leaves fall. When asked if I would rather lose my hearing or my sight, I always choose the latter. In complete and total silence of the world, the void would make my soul implode. Because even the fishtanks need music.