"Music would take over at the point at which words become powerless, with the one and only object of expressing that which nothing but music could express."
space and the idea of a universe that stretches past infinity, but yet, sometimes, it feels as though the only thing that matters, is how to play the crescendo best, how to switch from pizzicato smoothly, how to capture the essence of a scene properly on paper, how to jump higher, run faster, get further
the smell of chlorine
putting rosin on a violin bow
the bounce of piano keys underneath fingertips, when the piano is still new and untouched
and the familiarity of an older one that feels far wiser than yourself
running so hard, your lungs are on fire
shutting your eyes and listening to raindrops drumming down on windows
the sound of a volleyball or basketball hitting the floor