Legends say I owned a tiger once.
Once?
Hardly.
I owned tigers often and carelessly. I rode tigers into battles while lions flanked in unison. The sound was enormous, a victory in itself.
It reverberated throughout the room as if a choir of angels came down from heaven with their lyres and harps and started singing a beautiful song; a wondrous song that could instantly warm any human’s heart and fill it with unsurmountable joy. The sound, it echoed through, and it gave him hope to pull through.
They tell me I have sixty seconds to write about the word sound or of the word sound and what sound is and I don’t even know what the fuck the word means. I hear this horrible noise, which which becomes invincible at the same time as the word starts to vibrate as if visually trying to remind me what sound meant while my hearing tried to catch up.
music. dialogue. the world around. surprising how much you ignore it until its gone or changes. Example: paint mixers. the just keep spinning. really loud, you drown them out quickly. suddently they end, and the word is better.
This was the sounds of happiness: silence. There was no sound around me, no hustle and bustle of the every busy humans. Silence. It was wonderful and serene, and I wished I could stay here, right in the middle of nature, forever. Sound seemed to disappear into the trees, and I was content.
The sound of music floated into my bedroom from the living room. It was the theme song to some children’s show. No idea which one. I could hear the children, all four of them laughing and giggling. Then a scream. When you have four girls, there is always going to be a scream, whether it’s laughter or pain.
The drumming was all. A rhythmic pounding which filled Chak from her seal fur boots to the tips of her night black hair. There was no time for anything else
short and sweet or long and powerful sound happens to be the best if not the worst thing to happen to everyone. sound makes us remember the things we want and dont want to remember, sound triggers us and makes us wince when we know we’re thinking about the bad things, too. sound is the reason we’re misguided and alone but full of life and happiness as well. without sound we wouldnt be anything.
rumbling softly in the distance the dansette vibrations tingly softly over drums as taught as a old skin. she smiles quietly and you can’t hear her but whispered through caresses are her words and meanings and thoughts
Music is more than a sound. Music is every expression ever felt by anyone anywhere, singing you to sleep, and making you think of the things, the people, who make you happy. Such simple sounds, layered with beautiful lyrics, that what you are to me. Music. Not sound.
The sound of crashing waves was un bearable. The sound rattled through my mind, rendering me unable to think. I just wanted to get away from the waterfall. The feeling of vertigo was beginning to make me dizzy.
Audible, instantaneous but can take time to reach you. A sense some don’t enjoy and other don’t appreciate. Can sooth, frighten, amaze, intrigue. One of life’s virtues.
One little sound was all it took. One little sound and they would find me and everything that was planned would be useless. It all depended on how quiet I could stay and how quickly he could get them out of here.
the voice in my head,
the sounds i hear,
i can’t understand them because they are unclear.
i do know when thing.
it is not my conscious telling me right from wrong.
it is a bug inside my head, something unsung.
Sound of the waves crashing on the beach. They sooth me as i gently lull myself to sleep. I lay on the hammock, Listening. Hearing. Loving. The sound of the waves.
Calm and cool. It gives you a state of balance to help you think more clearly. It can serve as distraction as well. Its a tool that can swing both ways.
Sound is something which is both lost and found. You hear it, it exists. You don’t hear it, it still exists. I’m not trying to quote that tree falling in a forest bullshit. But as a musician, you don’t need fame for your sound to be sound. You don’t need fans to exist to make you a legitimate artist. I make my sound. If you hear it, you hear it.
vanish cold dark empty
the space between the sound
the wordless afterthoughts
worked up and broken
all the time
forgotten smiles
how you remembered it then
how you’ll forget it now
and tomorrow, we’ll still be apart
a cosmic joke
a broken silence.
I love the sound of glass breaking. I love how it tinkles and smashes. I hate cleaning up broken glass, though. It stays on the floor and you end up having it stick to the bottom of your socks or little pieces that you barely see imbed themselves in your feet.
Echoes. They reverberate around me, but they begun to dim in length. They fade into smaller echoes, and smaller audio, to the point where I begin to think they may only be ghosts of what I remember them as. Maybe I have lost all of my hearing and am only thinking of the sounds that should be heard.
The ship’s horn pierced her ears and the drum of footsteps pounding up the ramp made her eyes blurry. She could smell salt so vividly in the air it reminded her of the fish her father used to hang whenever he returned from his lengthy and dangerous trips at sea.
i like the sound of your voice. i hate talking on the phone, but i love it when you call me. i like to listen to you speaking. i like how you say my name, it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, i love you.
His cackles followed me through the narrow alleyway as I blindly dragged my hand across the rough and gritty texture of the stone walls. Time was falling through my fingers like a shattered glass, its piercing wail just as mocking as the echoes that continued.
the sound of your steps as you were going away. Felt like a stone falling in the sand. Or felt like dead nothingness of the broken hearts. You never see me again. But I will see you. I will see you once in a year and
The room was quiet but for the sound of water dripping in the corner, It was dark and damp, smelled like dirt. She twisted and pulled at the ropes on her wrists. A sound from the corner made her pause. Scratch.. scratch…the rustle of paper or maybe cloth then a large rat ran across her feet. She gasped and wiggled her feet as much as the ropes would let her. There wasn’t much time left, she worked harder and manged to loosen the knots just enough. Her hands trembled and pulled furiously on the other bonds until the door creaked and a sliver of light crept toward her. He was back.
the sound of your heartbeat, just in time to mine. pumping blood, adding fuel to our passionate fire. warm shadows creep over us, bodies intertwined, lust blazing and unstoppable.
it is loud and extroirdinarly vibrant if it comes in crasing colours that exediate the thrall of the never ending leprochon volume of the hotel in the middle of the lake because it is a gruesome job to keep the sounds of cpolours alive when they are surrounding you in a pasel of viscious cyecles because it never occured to you to turn the speakers off but you did, and voila,! it is here! is it everywhere. but no, no, no, i havent seen a sound like this. smell it. does it smell good?
It must! It must smell because sound is like a flower that needs constant care and if you don’t care it does, cannot grow, it must grow with your love so take this breathe away from it and hold it and put it in a jar and keep it there for safe keeping. they must never ever find it. they cannot! i will not let them. take it. precious, volume.
I didn’t like the sound of what she was saying. It seemed like she was trying to tell me that it wasn’t working, but I didn’t want to hear it. She was wrong, and she just had to realize it.
I’d tell her, sure, and then she’d know she was mistaken. We weren’t done and that’s all there was to it.
It was a deep reverberating noise that you felt in your chest. It filled the entire room and seemed to fill you within with it’s din. It wasn’t a horrible sound, far from it. But it was not the sort of thing you’d expect to hear from planets. Planets were supposed to be quiet things hanging in the blackness.
Sound is too often forgotten. We never forget the way it looked and certainly not the way it smelled, but can you remember precisely the way it sounded? You may remember the words spoken, or the tune played, but can you remember the sound? It escapes us easily for one reason or another, but if you focus on it, you will discover its richness, its subtleties, and the inability to find its complete absence.
I love music. It is so awesome. It is amazing and it gives me a warm feeling inside. However, I do not take too kindly to loud noises, but I don’t mind taps every now and then. And you know what the most annoying sound in the world is? “AHWKEARHWEOWERHAH!” Yup. Annoying isn’t it?
i like the sound of music.
It relaxes me a lot. Other noises like the rain sounds calming. Also the sound of silence is sometimes calming and sometimes scary. Silence is good sometimes
Sounds go whooshing, rushing, prancing, leaping, bounding on by. But, have you ever really sat back and just listened?
Composer John Cage once wrote a piece he titled “4’33,” in which the rests are taceted, and everybody, including the musicians, sit quietly for 4 minutes and 33 seconds. Then, is when you hear the sounds… of life.
Legends say I owned a tiger once.
Once?
Hardly.
I owned tigers often and carelessly. I rode tigers into battles while lions flanked in unison. The sound was enormous, a victory in itself.
It reverberated throughout the room as if a choir of angels came down from heaven with their lyres and harps and started singing a beautiful song; a wondrous song that could instantly warm any human’s heart and fill it with unsurmountable joy. The sound, it echoed through, and it gave him hope to pull through.
They tell me I have sixty seconds to write about the word sound or of the word sound and what sound is and I don’t even know what the fuck the word means. I hear this horrible noise, which which becomes invincible at the same time as the word starts to vibrate as if visually trying to remind me what sound meant while my hearing tried to catch up.
music beautiful lovely birds piano violin
music. dialogue. the world around. surprising how much you ignore it until its gone or changes. Example: paint mixers. the just keep spinning. really loud, you drown them out quickly. suddently they end, and the word is better.
This was the sounds of happiness: silence. There was no sound around me, no hustle and bustle of the every busy humans. Silence. It was wonderful and serene, and I wished I could stay here, right in the middle of nature, forever. Sound seemed to disappear into the trees, and I was content.
The sound of music floated into my bedroom from the living room. It was the theme song to some children’s show. No idea which one. I could hear the children, all four of them laughing and giggling. Then a scream. When you have four girls, there is always going to be a scream, whether it’s laughter or pain.
The drumming was all. A rhythmic pounding which filled Chak from her seal fur boots to the tips of her night black hair. There was no time for anything else
short and sweet or long and powerful sound happens to be the best if not the worst thing to happen to everyone. sound makes us remember the things we want and dont want to remember, sound triggers us and makes us wince when we know we’re thinking about the bad things, too. sound is the reason we’re misguided and alone but full of life and happiness as well. without sound we wouldnt be anything.
rumbling softly in the distance the dansette vibrations tingly softly over drums as taught as a old skin. she smiles quietly and you can’t hear her but whispered through caresses are her words and meanings and thoughts
We’re in love in my mind. A place where the tone of your voice vibrates my body and my heart overflows with love for you. I internally bleed.
music, drum ,mouth, people, mlk, siren,dog,cat,Indie,tap,bam,boom, speaker, radio,waves,headphones,mircop
Music is more than a sound. Music is every expression ever felt by anyone anywhere, singing you to sleep, and making you think of the things, the people, who make you happy. Such simple sounds, layered with beautiful lyrics, that what you are to me. Music. Not sound.
The sound of crashing waves was un bearable. The sound rattled through my mind, rendering me unable to think. I just wanted to get away from the waterfall. The feeling of vertigo was beginning to make me dizzy.
Audible, instantaneous but can take time to reach you. A sense some don’t enjoy and other don’t appreciate. Can sooth, frighten, amaze, intrigue. One of life’s virtues.
Safe and Sound
Is that your goal in life?
Or would you rather take risks
like indoor sky diving in a wind tunnel.
Safe and Sound
That’s what parents want for their children
but with a little spice of life thrown in for good measure.
One little sound was all it took. One little sound and they would find me and everything that was planned would be useless. It all depended on how quiet I could stay and how quickly he could get them out of here.
the voice in my head,
the sounds i hear,
i can’t understand them because they are unclear.
i do know when thing.
it is not my conscious telling me right from wrong.
it is a bug inside my head, something unsung.
Sound of the waves crashing on the beach. They sooth me as i gently lull myself to sleep. I lay on the hammock, Listening. Hearing. Loving. The sound of the waves.
Calm and cool. It gives you a state of balance to help you think more clearly. It can serve as distraction as well. Its a tool that can swing both ways.
Sound is something which is both lost and found. You hear it, it exists. You don’t hear it, it still exists. I’m not trying to quote that tree falling in a forest bullshit. But as a musician, you don’t need fame for your sound to be sound. You don’t need fans to exist to make you a legitimate artist. I make my sound. If you hear it, you hear it.
vanish cold dark empty
the space between the sound
the wordless afterthoughts
worked up and broken
all the time
forgotten smiles
how you remembered it then
how you’ll forget it now
and tomorrow, we’ll still be apart
a cosmic joke
a broken silence.
I love the sound of glass breaking. I love how it tinkles and smashes. I hate cleaning up broken glass, though. It stays on the floor and you end up having it stick to the bottom of your socks or little pieces that you barely see imbed themselves in your feet.
Echoes. They reverberate around me, but they begun to dim in length. They fade into smaller echoes, and smaller audio, to the point where I begin to think they may only be ghosts of what I remember them as. Maybe I have lost all of my hearing and am only thinking of the sounds that should be heard.
The ship’s horn pierced her ears and the drum of footsteps pounding up the ramp made her eyes blurry. She could smell salt so vividly in the air it reminded her of the fish her father used to hang whenever he returned from his lengthy and dangerous trips at sea.
i like the sound of your voice. i hate talking on the phone, but i love it when you call me. i like to listen to you speaking. i like how you say my name, it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, i love you.
His cackles followed me through the narrow alleyway as I blindly dragged my hand across the rough and gritty texture of the stone walls. Time was falling through my fingers like a shattered glass, its piercing wail just as mocking as the echoes that continued.
the sound of your steps as you were going away. Felt like a stone falling in the sand. Or felt like dead nothingness of the broken hearts. You never see me again. But I will see you. I will see you once in a year and
The room was quiet but for the sound of water dripping in the corner, It was dark and damp, smelled like dirt. She twisted and pulled at the ropes on her wrists. A sound from the corner made her pause. Scratch.. scratch…the rustle of paper or maybe cloth then a large rat ran across her feet. She gasped and wiggled her feet as much as the ropes would let her. There wasn’t much time left, she worked harder and manged to loosen the knots just enough. Her hands trembled and pulled furiously on the other bonds until the door creaked and a sliver of light crept toward her. He was back.
the sound of your heartbeat, just in time to mine. pumping blood, adding fuel to our passionate fire. warm shadows creep over us, bodies intertwined, lust blazing and unstoppable.
he’s crafted his sound to become his soul in words.
it is loud and extroirdinarly vibrant if it comes in crasing colours that exediate the thrall of the never ending leprochon volume of the hotel in the middle of the lake because it is a gruesome job to keep the sounds of cpolours alive when they are surrounding you in a pasel of viscious cyecles because it never occured to you to turn the speakers off but you did, and voila,! it is here! is it everywhere. but no, no, no, i havent seen a sound like this. smell it. does it smell good?
It must! It must smell because sound is like a flower that needs constant care and if you don’t care it does, cannot grow, it must grow with your love so take this breathe away from it and hold it and put it in a jar and keep it there for safe keeping. they must never ever find it. they cannot! i will not let them. take it. precious, volume.
I didn’t like the sound of what she was saying. It seemed like she was trying to tell me that it wasn’t working, but I didn’t want to hear it. She was wrong, and she just had to realize it.
I’d tell her, sure, and then she’d know she was mistaken. We weren’t done and that’s all there was to it.
It was a deep reverberating noise that you felt in your chest. It filled the entire room and seemed to fill you within with it’s din. It wasn’t a horrible sound, far from it. But it was not the sort of thing you’d expect to hear from planets. Planets were supposed to be quiet things hanging in the blackness.
Your house has to feel safe and sound. It needs to be homy, and cosy, and above all you need to be able to be free.
Sound is too often forgotten. We never forget the way it looked and certainly not the way it smelled, but can you remember precisely the way it sounded? You may remember the words spoken, or the tune played, but can you remember the sound? It escapes us easily for one reason or another, but if you focus on it, you will discover its richness, its subtleties, and the inability to find its complete absence.
I love music. It is so awesome. It is amazing and it gives me a warm feeling inside. However, I do not take too kindly to loud noises, but I don’t mind taps every now and then. And you know what the most annoying sound in the world is? “AHWKEARHWEOWERHAH!” Yup. Annoying isn’t it?
i like the sound of music.
It relaxes me a lot. Other noises like the rain sounds calming. Also the sound of silence is sometimes calming and sometimes scary. Silence is good sometimes
Sounds go whooshing, rushing, prancing, leaping, bounding on by. But, have you ever really sat back and just listened?
Composer John Cage once wrote a piece he titled “4’33,” in which the rests are taceted, and everybody, including the musicians, sit quietly for 4 minutes and 33 seconds. Then, is when you hear the sounds… of life.
my heart breaking. intonations I didn’t know existed. Learn something new every day #Sound