it makes me feel good. sound is awesome. it brings joy to my heart and face. it sounds weird,but makes sense to me. i like sound. and i hope it can be given to as many people as possible. :)
It started as I walked into the room. Everything was quiet as the door opened, but as soon as it shut behind me, the music started. It wasn’t in the room, but it seemed more like it was in my own ears. I wasn’t entirely sure if the one other person in the room could hear the same thing that I could. He wasn’t reacting. He just, sat.
Sound is a beautiful thing. It is seen in dogs, people, grass flying, bees buzzing. But deaf people cant hear sound. They’re still cool though. They have their own kind of sound that you can know about through seeing and also through feeling vibrations. It’s really cool and I have deaf friends. They don’t need sound.
it cuts through the air like a knife, vibrations pulsating. some find joy where others cannot afford to listen. this thing that we cannot see, but only feel.
The sound. It was deafening. A continual, mind-numbing, awful sound, just drilling itself into my brain. How could anyone live with this? Would it never end? It must have been humanly impossible to cope with this.
I can’t understand it sometimes
my love for your voice
I wish it could wake me from this sleep I put myself in
but I know it won’t.
It just gives me something to dream of.
something to yearn for
I simply want to hear you say it.
say it please.
It’s beautiful, you’re voice. It’s the most amazing sound my sinful ears have ever been blessed with. The bass, the smoothness of it… There’s nothing I could say that would ever be able to describe the beautiful perfection that is your voice. I simply love it.
i heard the sounds outside my window. i wasnt sure what i was expecting to see. It was unlike i had ever heard before. I peered outside the window, looking at what had made the noises, and there, in the near distance, there was a group of people. People whom I’ve never seen before. People who most likely wanted me dead.
Nothing in his freekick life prepared him
For the penalties whistle, piercing the air
And the drum, until all that was left was skin
Loose and waving in the hot air
A loud humming was sounding through my head the whole day. It eventually drove me to a breaking point and I complained to my mother. She said we would go to the doctor tomorrow and that I shouldn’t use those annoying earplugs. But the sound became increasingly loud and I began to go insane.
I heard it through the door. A high screeching sound. I slowly walked into the living room to find a bright green parrot flapping around the ceiling fan. This is when I first met Vladimir .
He stares outside the window glass, watching the cars pass by. The window closed. He stood up and and gradually opened the window. Still, there was no sound. He wished he could hear again. But he couldn’t. Not anymore.
The man who blends in with the night takes off into the darkness without a sound. The shadows are his home. No one knows of his existence, but he knows of theirs. He knows everyone. He sits in the alcoves, in the little nooks and crannies of the world you hadn’t noticed, and he watches you. Stalks his prey. One day, he will attack. It would be fruitless to implore you to prepare, though, because he moves as stealthily as a ghost.
The man who blends in with the night takes off into the darkness. The shadows are his home. No one knows of his existence, but he knows of theirs. He knows everyone. He sits in the alcoves, in the little nooks and crannies of the world you hadn’t noticed, and he watches you. Stalks his prey. One day, he will attack.
sometimes things just sound like home or a familiar memory. A sound can bring about a good feeling or a bad feeling or nostalgia or euphoria…sound turns into music and music turns into an emotion.
The sound of the train grated on her eardrums like a screaming mess. She couldn’t stand living so near the tracks, and only wished she had been more fortunate to have been born into a family like the Elliots.
It sounds like you are saying goodbye. Is that really want you want. I hear him say this on the other side of the phone and want to cry. Yes I am sorry. I cry and tell him I care but right now this is what is best for me and probably both of us. Make sure you satay safe and stay happy I say because though I can no longer be with him I still want him to know I love him.
There are sounds all around you, some you hear and some go unnoticed as you fly through the day. I love the sounds that pop up when it’s still and quiet. Usually my mind has settled for a moment, i’m taking a breath and i catch a little bird song or a bit of wind.
Sound provides an exuberant experience in life. Sound has the ability to be joyous, sorrowful, or even startling. Sound may be associated with a mathematical formula as Pythagoras discovered. However, sound may also be much more intensely personal than any formula could convey. Sound never ceases to amaze
Crash, bang, boom. I’m off my feet, out of my rocker, over the moon. I can’t grab hold to sound waves or fresh scents. They’re hanging out of balance, and I’ve been thrown out of step. Glory, glory, my ears have filled with mold. Slipping down a rolling slope, I’ve lost my luck, I’m out of hope.
Everyone knows that forests hold the deepest secrets. Werewolves that howl at the moon, glowing fairies soundlessly lighting trails through the forest as they dance, and kisses to be forever forgotten. The forest is a treasure chest of secrets – a keyless chest. You just need to know how to find the secrets.
The concession I had made was one I could live with, but only just barely. As a musician, you try your best to keep your integrity, and the thought of selling out? Horrible. Not something you want. But you have to live. You have to compromise your sound, sometimes.
i like hearing sounds in the morning, the first thing i like to hear is a song. doesn’t matter what song, i just like to hear its beautiful melodies ringing in my ears. thats what brings me out of bed in the morning.
The Sound of Music! One of my favorite movies of all time.
And I guess it’s because I love music. My music taste is pretty eclectic, basically anything that has a good melody and a good beat, but it still means to the world to me, whether I’m playing the cello or jamming out to pop music. I even started taking singing lessons!
my childhood was preparation for life without a father.
not in the way a hand clenches a photograph, or even
the tears product of divorce.
i don’t mean loss.
but i am quiet now. i sleep quiet, speak quiet, cry quiet;
quiet burrowed in the pit of my stomach
and there was never anyone
to coax it out.
when i was young, sometimes i’d walk downstairs on the balls of my feet,
eavesdropping on the hum of late night tv
and rumbling snores.
i learned not to ask why my father slept on a couch
for seven years; why
he came and went from our dinner table
like an unplanned guest.
our family photo albums aren’t empty
so much as they don’t
exist.
this is what i mean by absence.
it is quiet, without the weight of
a bombshell. it is dust in the sunroom
where someone once sat
but has since forgotten.
They sounded like a bunch of kids. All laughing and giggling on the floor. They didn’t need anything other than themselves to feel so happy. They hadn’t seen each other in ages. IT just came naturally I guess. Some friendships last forever, even if the people are a million miles apart and haven’t seen each other in forever.
I think of music and the joy that it brings me and others. I think of the pain I get when something crashes or booms. I think of soundwaves traveling. It is as though i can almost see them, and feel them. Just like I feel the music within me. It is an attachment that I have always had and always will. Music is something that connects us all.
The sound of his voice was so soothing. It was the voice that I heard countless nights as I fell asleep in his arms in that cold room and the voice I heard all night in my dreams. But these words were not comforting in the least. “We
it’s muffled, all that i hear, all that enters my ear.
as if i was deaf, but that fortune is quite clear.
it’s my lack of comprehension, for i can hear the sound
from your mouth; it’s not enough for me to stick around.
A way of making sense of this world we live in. To listen, to hear the sounds that encompasses what allows our soul to move on. Creating memories and triggers to those memories to solidify our foreverness.
I love to hear sound. Music is a beautiful thing, one of the most beautiful things. It can be so relaxing, or intimidating, or inspiring. I don’t know what my world would be like without music. Or any sounds. Sometimes I wonder what being deaf might be like, and I’m sure that if I were, I would be okay, just very different. Everything would be different.
music driftung in the air as the sound of trees rustling in the breeze. the sound of the birds chipring so softly and the ocean breeze flowing. the gentle waves crashing down
music driftung in the air as the sound of trees rustling in the breeze. the sound of the birds chipring so softly and the ocean breeze flowing. the gentle waves crashing down
The noises of slumber—the hitches in breaths, the half-conceived words slipping out dreamlessly, and throat membranes catching. Knowing the way someone sounds while sleeping is as intimate as body cartography.
Second, the quaking voice. Telltale tremors before the speaker’s eyes spill from the softness of the moment. I want to cup that voice often.
Surprise ones. The escaped tones from the tonsils that burst out from seeing sudden movements or hearing them—the noises of a startled animal—only human.
I remember every sound of yours like warm clay holds fingerprints.
Sound and music bring me more joy than any other sensation in the world. The melodies of great composers, or the simplicity of a baby’s coo… Everything works in harmony.
The snow underfoot crackled as static, leaving a trail of sound in the pure white silence of the hillside. Everything echoed, hollowed out and perfect in the cloud cover canopy.
‘fuck’ she whispered, apropos of everything.
it makes me feel good. sound is awesome. it brings joy to my heart and face. it sounds weird,but makes sense to me. i like sound. and i hope it can be given to as many people as possible. :)
It started as I walked into the room. Everything was quiet as the door opened, but as soon as it shut behind me, the music started. It wasn’t in the room, but it seemed more like it was in my own ears. I wasn’t entirely sure if the one other person in the room could hear the same thing that I could. He wasn’t reacting. He just, sat.
Sound is a beautiful thing. It is seen in dogs, people, grass flying, bees buzzing. But deaf people cant hear sound. They’re still cool though. They have their own kind of sound that you can know about through seeing and also through feeling vibrations. It’s really cool and I have deaf friends. They don’t need sound.
it cuts through the air like a knife, vibrations pulsating. some find joy where others cannot afford to listen. this thing that we cannot see, but only feel.
The sound. It was deafening. A continual, mind-numbing, awful sound, just drilling itself into my brain. How could anyone live with this? Would it never end? It must have been humanly impossible to cope with this.
the sound of his whispers in my ear entranced my soul, leading me to a life filled with promises of love.
I can’t understand it sometimes
my love for your voice
I wish it could wake me from this sleep I put myself in
but I know it won’t.
It just gives me something to dream of.
something to yearn for
I simply want to hear you say it.
say it please.
It’s beautiful, you’re voice. It’s the most amazing sound my sinful ears have ever been blessed with. The bass, the smoothness of it… There’s nothing I could say that would ever be able to describe the beautiful perfection that is your voice. I simply love it.
Listen to the sound of quiet. Listen to the sound of peace. Listen to the sound that calls you to stand up and become more than what you are today.
i heard the sounds outside my window. i wasnt sure what i was expecting to see. It was unlike i had ever heard before. I peered outside the window, looking at what had made the noises, and there, in the near distance, there was a group of people. People whom I’ve never seen before. People who most likely wanted me dead.
Nothing in his freekick life prepared him
For the penalties whistle, piercing the air
And the drum, until all that was left was skin
Loose and waving in the hot air
A loud humming was sounding through my head the whole day. It eventually drove me to a breaking point and I complained to my mother. She said we would go to the doctor tomorrow and that I shouldn’t use those annoying earplugs. But the sound became increasingly loud and I began to go insane.
I heard it through the door. A high screeching sound. I slowly walked into the living room to find a bright green parrot flapping around the ceiling fan. This is when I first met Vladimir .
He stares outside the window glass, watching the cars pass by. The window closed. He stood up and and gradually opened the window. Still, there was no sound. He wished he could hear again. But he couldn’t. Not anymore.
The man who blends in with the night takes off into the darkness without a sound. The shadows are his home. No one knows of his existence, but he knows of theirs. He knows everyone. He sits in the alcoves, in the little nooks and crannies of the world you hadn’t noticed, and he watches you. Stalks his prey. One day, he will attack. It would be fruitless to implore you to prepare, though, because he moves as stealthily as a ghost.
The man who blends in with the night takes off into the darkness. The shadows are his home. No one knows of his existence, but he knows of theirs. He knows everyone. He sits in the alcoves, in the little nooks and crannies of the world you hadn’t noticed, and he watches you. Stalks his prey. One day, he will attack.
sometimes things just sound like home or a familiar memory. A sound can bring about a good feeling or a bad feeling or nostalgia or euphoria…sound turns into music and music turns into an emotion.
The sound of the train grated on her eardrums like a screaming mess. She couldn’t stand living so near the tracks, and only wished she had been more fortunate to have been born into a family like the Elliots.
It sounds like you are saying goodbye. Is that really want you want. I hear him say this on the other side of the phone and want to cry. Yes I am sorry. I cry and tell him I care but right now this is what is best for me and probably both of us. Make sure you satay safe and stay happy I say because though I can no longer be with him I still want him to know I love him.
There are sounds all around you, some you hear and some go unnoticed as you fly through the day. I love the sounds that pop up when it’s still and quiet. Usually my mind has settled for a moment, i’m taking a breath and i catch a little bird song or a bit of wind.
Sound provides an exuberant experience in life. Sound has the ability to be joyous, sorrowful, or even startling. Sound may be associated with a mathematical formula as Pythagoras discovered. However, sound may also be much more intensely personal than any formula could convey. Sound never ceases to amaze
Crash, bang, boom. I’m off my feet, out of my rocker, over the moon. I can’t grab hold to sound waves or fresh scents. They’re hanging out of balance, and I’ve been thrown out of step. Glory, glory, my ears have filled with mold. Slipping down a rolling slope, I’ve lost my luck, I’m out of hope.
The sound of your voice is the sound of mine
hollow empty clear
you don’t know it yet but we are the same
you and me
soon you’ll see
Everyone knows that forests hold the deepest secrets. Werewolves that howl at the moon, glowing fairies soundlessly lighting trails through the forest as they dance, and kisses to be forever forgotten. The forest is a treasure chest of secrets – a keyless chest. You just need to know how to find the secrets.
The concession I had made was one I could live with, but only just barely. As a musician, you try your best to keep your integrity, and the thought of selling out? Horrible. Not something you want. But you have to live. You have to compromise your sound, sometimes.
i like hearing sounds in the morning, the first thing i like to hear is a song. doesn’t matter what song, i just like to hear its beautiful melodies ringing in my ears. thats what brings me out of bed in the morning.
The Sound of Music! One of my favorite movies of all time.
And I guess it’s because I love music. My music taste is pretty eclectic, basically anything that has a good melody and a good beat, but it still means to the world to me, whether I’m playing the cello or jamming out to pop music. I even started taking singing lessons!
my childhood was preparation for life without a father.
not in the way a hand clenches a photograph, or even
the tears product of divorce.
i don’t mean loss.
but i am quiet now. i sleep quiet, speak quiet, cry quiet;
quiet burrowed in the pit of my stomach
and there was never anyone
to coax it out.
when i was young, sometimes i’d walk downstairs on the balls of my feet,
eavesdropping on the hum of late night tv
and rumbling snores.
i learned not to ask why my father slept on a couch
for seven years; why
he came and went from our dinner table
like an unplanned guest.
our family photo albums aren’t empty
so much as they don’t
exist.
this is what i mean by absence.
it is quiet, without the weight of
a bombshell. it is dust in the sunroom
where someone once sat
but has since forgotten.
They sounded like a bunch of kids. All laughing and giggling on the floor. They didn’t need anything other than themselves to feel so happy. They hadn’t seen each other in ages. IT just came naturally I guess. Some friendships last forever, even if the people are a million miles apart and haven’t seen each other in forever.
I think of music and the joy that it brings me and others. I think of the pain I get when something crashes or booms. I think of soundwaves traveling. It is as though i can almost see them, and feel them. Just like I feel the music within me. It is an attachment that I have always had and always will. Music is something that connects us all.
The sound of his voice was so soothing. It was the voice that I heard countless nights as I fell asleep in his arms in that cold room and the voice I heard all night in my dreams. But these words were not comforting in the least. “We
it’s muffled, all that i hear, all that enters my ear.
as if i was deaf, but that fortune is quite clear.
it’s my lack of comprehension, for i can hear the sound
from your mouth; it’s not enough for me to stick around.
A way of making sense of this world we live in. To listen, to hear the sounds that encompasses what allows our soul to move on. Creating memories and triggers to those memories to solidify our foreverness.
I love to hear sound. Music is a beautiful thing, one of the most beautiful things. It can be so relaxing, or intimidating, or inspiring. I don’t know what my world would be like without music. Or any sounds. Sometimes I wonder what being deaf might be like, and I’m sure that if I were, I would be okay, just very different. Everything would be different.
music driftung in the air as the sound of trees rustling in the breeze. the sound of the birds chipring so softly and the ocean breeze flowing. the gentle waves crashing down
music driftung in the air as the sound of trees rustling in the breeze. the sound of the birds chipring so softly and the ocean breeze flowing. the gentle waves crashing down
I like the vulnerable kinds.
The noises of slumber—the hitches in breaths, the half-conceived words slipping out dreamlessly, and throat membranes catching. Knowing the way someone sounds while sleeping is as intimate as body cartography.
Second, the quaking voice. Telltale tremors before the speaker’s eyes spill from the softness of the moment. I want to cup that voice often.
Surprise ones. The escaped tones from the tonsils that burst out from seeing sudden movements or hearing them—the noises of a startled animal—only human.
I remember every sound of yours like warm clay holds fingerprints.
Sound and music bring me more joy than any other sensation in the world. The melodies of great composers, or the simplicity of a baby’s coo… Everything works in harmony.
the mosques and temples in india wake me to the glorious sounds of people worshipping.
The snow underfoot crackled as static, leaving a trail of sound in the pure white silence of the hillside. Everything echoed, hollowed out and perfect in the cloud cover canopy.
‘fuck’ she whispered, apropos of everything.