A slightly comical idea based on a conversation I overheard between two elders. One was finding it hard to believe music could come from nothing less than a human. How Ironic.

Make That Harmonica Happen

Sailboats

The Apostle

Titanic Cover (Clipped)

Nostalgia is that place you wander upon, drawing closer and closer without thinking. Instead your mind is placed on auto-pilot, and your senses are multiplied through the fluttering click-sounds audible from the carousel thats loaded with film, projecting everything you want to see, carnivals, people, love, dates, pets, make-outs, make-ups, new love, last love and all the while – you smell all of it.  A smile can frequently begin a rather slow and steady formation on your face; your eyes are wide open, but you see nothing because your so busily distracted by the enlightenment of it all, which is why you are now leaving, shortly then realizing you should have already left and it's now evidently clear that you should have never came. You are treating yourself badly emotionally, and no matter how hard you try to get back to where you were previously, before all of this, you keep stumbling because you can't see; your eyes are burning from the overdose of salt that's overly saturated in the tears you excessively cry.  Why do you do this to yourself? Why do you come here? You'll never have a worthy answer to any of this because there is a flaw within you, and it seems to be an obsession with a carousel and its trickery. 

Mnemosyne

There's a place I go - just before the second hand strikes a semi-sonic collision with reality, before youth obliterates into a million miles of stringy silk which runs among an infinite network of beautiful faces via colored eyes. This time vessel is leaving port now and Its in this moment my entire life-form transcends deep into my own realm of glory, and I can sometimes see you there on the other side.

Arcadia

My hand told the other hand to try its best, if only be it's worst, to sound out all of my feelings for you.

jakekerr.Music