The wisper of the wind that slowly drifts across the inside of your ear.
the wind tells us many things, or perhaps that is just what we believe we hear
or hence it is what we want to believe.
”Whatever excuses you can give me, this must stop. It is not sound. It is based on judgement that is way off track.”
Why would you have this person as a friend I ask myself. She is trying again to stop the momentum. Is it time to remove her from the list?
”I don’t care what you do,” she continued. ”You can wasted your life, but think about the impact you are having on the lives of the people you drag along.”
Definitely time to cut her loose.
Sound. Someone once said that organized sound is music. I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe. Maybe I just don’t know the definition of music. That kind of makes me sad because I secretly want to be a professional music critic. Or at least someone who critically appreciates music.
i hear the sound of the ocean filling my ears. this is life this is now. i usually dont favor the ocean but the forrest is too cluttered for my cluttered mind right now. i have a cluttered ming and a cluttered desk but einstein once said that a full desk is a full mind. i would rather that than an empty one. this is my life. this is now and i dont want to spend any more of it worrying about tomorrows. the sound of the ocean, and the smell, and the breeze; it is all filling my hollow body
is incredible. it’s one of my favorite things to sense, especially if it’s natural or organic or if somebody really means it when they make it. A world without sound would be horribly bleak.
The sound of the laughter echoes in my mind, leaving taunting trailing in its dreadful wake. I try to shut out the noises and am enclosed in my own cocoon. All that remains is the pounding of my heart and the whispers of my thoughts. The laughter fades, and a new sound takes its place. This sound is the roaring of the waves. Although I cannot tell if it is the sound f my heart or the waves, for I am one with the sea.
Don’t make a sound. Just stop, listen, and breathe. Capture the lights of the city you’re leaving soon enough. Take note of reflection on the water, just before it disappears beneath the bridge. The only sound is you and the ocean before you part.
music love wanting to hear your voice. alone. at night but your presence is there the sound of your voice lingers on me . death bombs crying. babies make sound everyone does i cant breathe……
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. The sound of him breathing shocked me. I cried out in happiness as Sparky came to life in my arms. Tell me when I can breathe again.
idk what sound is. i get scared cause what is sound. think about it. what is the universe. what is space. why are we here. why isnt anything just nothing. but nothing is something because it just is. nothing is darkness and what is sound. goodbye.
Funny I was just looking at a course on sound. I hear the sounds on the radio and wonder how do they put these sound, voices, notes together to create this sound, that my ears love. Soothing, yummy, moving sounds that I can’t get enough of.
Even in the silence there is sound. It is up to us to take the time to listen because one never knows how what we hear could impact our lives. It is important to not overlook the simple things and appreciate what we have, because you don’t know what you have until it is gone, and then it is too late. So respect the birds and the music and the crying children because it is important. It just is.
The sound of the rain was magnified by the plastic cover that closed the air conditioner. It was still on from the winter, trying vainly to stop the north wind. But beneath the rain, were the sounds of her soft sobbing through the bathroom door. There were no words left, none to be found, and he could only sit by the window and look at the dismal day that somehow seemed to know.
a noise or music. someone says something. being outside. a bird, leaves rustling, house creaking, a sigh, a pencil squeeking, someone typing, someone flipping a page, someone making small steps, all in quiet places. or the loud ones. like a rock concert or a blender or lightning striking; vibrations that your ears sense.
what you hear when you listen. can be anything at all. another person, an inanimate object moved by gravity. can be inspirational and touching, like a bird song or the person you love breathing, or hearing their heartbeat. can be annoying. can be anything at all.
Sound is very important, some people cannot hear sound. One time I watched a video of a child with a cochlear implant hear sound for the first time, his first sound was his mother’s voice, it was beautiful. I wish my child’s first noise had been my voice and not that of the doctor doing the c-section.
the sound of winter breezes fill the air. the sound of birds chirping in the summer mornings alert many. sounds fill the air and fill our minds. the sounds around us distract us. they alert us.
The sounds of the rustling leaves broke her concentration. She was to master the art of meditation before she turned 20, but it seemed as though it would take her an eternity for her to master it.
when i think about sound, somthing more than just that one of our sixth senses comes about. I think about all of the memories and wonderful things that come with it. The cry of a baby as he is brought into the world, or the applause after a child makes sound into art.
sound is big, sound is smooth, sound is rattling, and made by our tongues.
sound is lovely, sound is horrid, sound is a machine, and a million songs.
sound is everywhere.
I like the sound of silence. It isn’t available often and when it is you have to listen carefully to hear it in it’s full glory…just the absence of noise…ahhhhh…do you hear that? It is the sound of nothing.
The sound of your voice, seeps into my veins. I’m wrapped in it’s warm embrace, hiding from the world where no one will ever find me, lost in lullaby I never want to end.
She didn’t know what it sounded like. It was a crack against the roof. Did she need to wax poetic about a suspected branch falling on her roof.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say… the sound was musical and full of meaning, maybe?” She shook her head. “Tool.”
sound is what carries us, like the winds of a typhoon, along the curve of the life we inhabit. sounds embodies our emotions, our words, sound if what changes us. anyone loves sound, without it, we become hollow. sound is music. love. life.
I couldn’t live without sound. I couldn’t live deaf. I mean, granted, it’d be better to be without sound than without sight, or at least that’s what I think. But sound is so much. The sound of other people’s voices. Of my own. Of music – and I absolutely cannot live without music. Of nature. Of everything. Everything has it’s own sound, it’s own song. How could I live without hearing them?
The sound of the empty silent house is killing me softly. The sound of the dead person lying on the ground, scares me. The sound of the unspoken mouth of mine, lingers around the air. The sound of nothing, is the most ominous.
sound reminds me of music, i love music. makes me think, and be happy . other things make me happy too, like my momma and my girlfrioend maritza. she has the same name as me
There it was again that… sound. I can’t place it but I know it sounds familiar. Maybe I should go towards it. but what if it’s not what I think it is. What if the sound isn’t here for me.
I listen to the sounds that come out through my headphones and imagine myself in a place without walls or surroundings. I don’t know where I am or what i’m doing there. All I know is that the calmness is bathing over me while I hear symphonies.
The wisper of the wind that slowly drifts across the inside of your ear.
the wind tells us many things, or perhaps that is just what we believe we hear
or hence it is what we want to believe.
”Whatever excuses you can give me, this must stop. It is not sound. It is based on judgement that is way off track.”
Why would you have this person as a friend I ask myself. She is trying again to stop the momentum. Is it time to remove her from the list?
”I don’t care what you do,” she continued. ”You can wasted your life, but think about the impact you are having on the lives of the people you drag along.”
Definitely time to cut her loose.
the sound,
it resonates through me,
through time,
it is what calls my name.
tells me to make it,
to the ones with deaf ears.
scratch of needle
gliding vinyl shine
I rest a quarter
on your back
worth the cost
of 25 cents
to hear the
record
play sweet and
straight.
Sound. Someone once said that organized sound is music. I don’t know if that’s true. Maybe. Maybe I just don’t know the definition of music. That kind of makes me sad because I secretly want to be a professional music critic. Or at least someone who critically appreciates music.
i hear the sound of the ocean filling my ears. this is life this is now. i usually dont favor the ocean but the forrest is too cluttered for my cluttered mind right now. i have a cluttered ming and a cluttered desk but einstein once said that a full desk is a full mind. i would rather that than an empty one. this is my life. this is now and i dont want to spend any more of it worrying about tomorrows. the sound of the ocean, and the smell, and the breeze; it is all filling my hollow body
is incredible. it’s one of my favorite things to sense, especially if it’s natural or organic or if somebody really means it when they make it. A world without sound would be horribly bleak.
The sound of the laughter echoes in my mind, leaving taunting trailing in its dreadful wake. I try to shut out the noises and am enclosed in my own cocoon. All that remains is the pounding of my heart and the whispers of my thoughts. The laughter fades, and a new sound takes its place. This sound is the roaring of the waves. Although I cannot tell if it is the sound f my heart or the waves, for I am one with the sea.
Don’t make a sound. Just stop, listen, and breathe. Capture the lights of the city you’re leaving soon enough. Take note of reflection on the water, just before it disappears beneath the bridge. The only sound is you and the ocean before you part.
music love wanting to hear your voice. alone. at night but your presence is there the sound of your voice lingers on me . death bombs crying. babies make sound everyone does i cant breathe……
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils. The sound of him breathing shocked me. I cried out in happiness as Sparky came to life in my arms. Tell me when I can breathe again.
submarined in unbridled silence
the quiet creates a fullness
cutting through the absence of sound
idk what sound is. i get scared cause what is sound. think about it. what is the universe. what is space. why are we here. why isnt anything just nothing. but nothing is something because it just is. nothing is darkness and what is sound. goodbye.
Funny I was just looking at a course on sound. I hear the sounds on the radio and wonder how do they put these sound, voices, notes together to create this sound, that my ears love. Soothing, yummy, moving sounds that I can’t get enough of.
Even in the silence there is sound. It is up to us to take the time to listen because one never knows how what we hear could impact our lives. It is important to not overlook the simple things and appreciate what we have, because you don’t know what you have until it is gone, and then it is too late. So respect the birds and the music and the crying children because it is important. It just is.
I love to wake up early in the morning before the first bird makes a call, and listen for that first sound.
The sound of the rain was magnified by the plastic cover that closed the air conditioner. It was still on from the winter, trying vainly to stop the north wind. But beneath the rain, were the sounds of her soft sobbing through the bathroom door. There were no words left, none to be found, and he could only sit by the window and look at the dismal day that somehow seemed to know.
sound is infinate, it can never be stopped. It is every where it fills everything. It makes you and breaks you. Sound is beautiful and scary.
a noise or music. someone says something. being outside. a bird, leaves rustling, house creaking, a sigh, a pencil squeeking, someone typing, someone flipping a page, someone making small steps, all in quiet places. or the loud ones. like a rock concert or a blender or lightning striking; vibrations that your ears sense.
I can’t get it out of my head, that irrupting voice. There is nothing i can do to make it stop. It is like fingernails on the chalkboard of my mind.
I love to listen to the sound of nature. It’ calming and refreshing
is how i would describe you. nothing but vibrations rattling my chest. uncomfortable loud love. You.
I like sound. It helps add definition to the world we live in. Did you know in space there is no sound?
what you hear when you listen. can be anything at all. another person, an inanimate object moved by gravity. can be inspirational and touching, like a bird song or the person you love breathing, or hearing their heartbeat. can be annoying. can be anything at all.
Sound is very important, some people cannot hear sound. One time I watched a video of a child with a cochlear implant hear sound for the first time, his first sound was his mother’s voice, it was beautiful. I wish my child’s first noise had been my voice and not that of the doctor doing the c-section.
the sound of winter breezes fill the air. the sound of birds chirping in the summer mornings alert many. sounds fill the air and fill our minds. the sounds around us distract us. they alert us.
The sounds of the rustling leaves broke her concentration. She was to master the art of meditation before she turned 20, but it seemed as though it would take her an eternity for her to master it.
when i think about sound, somthing more than just that one of our sixth senses comes about. I think about all of the memories and wonderful things that come with it. The cry of a baby as he is brought into the world, or the applause after a child makes sound into art.
sound is big, sound is smooth, sound is rattling, and made by our tongues.
sound is lovely, sound is horrid, sound is a machine, and a million songs.
sound is everywhere.
I like the sound of silence. It isn’t available often and when it is you have to listen carefully to hear it in it’s full glory…just the absence of noise…ahhhhh…do you hear that? It is the sound of nothing.
when i see the word sound the first thing i think is mucis, music is my everything its my life, my saoir, it has lead to so many relationships in my
Gabe loved the sounds of nature, people always asked if the silence ever got too bad and Gabe laughed, for those who listen, outside is never silent
The sound of your voice, seeps into my veins. I’m wrapped in it’s warm embrace, hiding from the world where no one will ever find me, lost in lullaby I never want to end.
She didn’t know what it sounded like. It was a crack against the roof. Did she need to wax poetic about a suspected branch falling on her roof.
“I’m not sure what you want me to say… the sound was musical and full of meaning, maybe?” She shook her head. “Tool.”
sound is what carries us, like the winds of a typhoon, along the curve of the life we inhabit. sounds embodies our emotions, our words, sound if what changes us. anyone loves sound, without it, we become hollow. sound is music. love. life.
I couldn’t live without sound. I couldn’t live deaf. I mean, granted, it’d be better to be without sound than without sight, or at least that’s what I think. But sound is so much. The sound of other people’s voices. Of my own. Of music – and I absolutely cannot live without music. Of nature. Of everything. Everything has it’s own sound, it’s own song. How could I live without hearing them?
The sound of the empty silent house is killing me softly. The sound of the dead person lying on the ground, scares me. The sound of the unspoken mouth of mine, lingers around the air. The sound of nothing, is the most ominous.
sound reminds me of music, i love music. makes me think, and be happy . other things make me happy too, like my momma and my girlfrioend maritza. she has the same name as me
There it was again that… sound. I can’t place it but I know it sounds familiar. Maybe I should go towards it. but what if it’s not what I think it is. What if the sound isn’t here for me.
I listen to the sounds that come out through my headphones and imagine myself in a place without walls or surroundings. I don’t know where I am or what i’m doing there. All I know is that the calmness is bathing over me while I hear symphonies.