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November 22, 2011
Things seem to be coming to a natural end. Splintering like sheets of ice. Like the final cadence of a song.

It feels right. The chord feels complete, like a full stop. Sometimes I wish the song could be repeated; even the dischordant parts bring some form of comfort. However, I would soon sicken of it, and consequently die.

I look forward to the beginning of the new piece. A new rhythm, with new melodic ideas and interpretations. I want to escape from the old song and sink into an unknown harmony.

Wash me in music. Music, cleanse my soul.