I used to be able to close my eyes and imagine a story to the sound of a classical piece. Requiems were visual epics – battles of vanguard armies on the most desolate lands I’d seen in books and on the net. When I close my eyes now, there’s a convoluted series of blurs. The veterans of battle I used to see, crisp with lines of experience drawing down their brow and mouth, are now blurs. The music is focused too much into my reality, now. A requiem blows life into my memories, vivid, excruciating life. All the horror I have culminates into each crescendo; […]
