Noise in Technicolor

WORDS BY ALYSSA GENGOS / @ALYSZSA
VISUAL BY HONOUR FOTTRELL / @HONOURANGELICA


the most pleasing word to hear is your own name
and when you say mine, 
I feel compelled to listen.

I HEAR EVERYTHING
it's when I choose to listen that it actually matters,
the exact frequencies that I immortalize and store 
in tiny spots across my memory

you know you've lost someone when you realize you've forgotten the sound of their voice.

I vividly remember the time I danced around my kitchen 
with my cat in my arms on a sunny afternoon,
spinning a record over my television speakers, 
thinking "I will come back to this moment every time I hear this song"

music finds strength as an art form because it causes a physical reaction
our hearts beat in time with the rhythm section,
our pupils dilate, 
WE SHAKE, WE DANCE, WE CRY,
muscle memory, I think that's what they call it

life fans out around me like a prism of light
and noise is in technicolor
red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet skies
pollock paintings in my ears and eyes

and when all of my senses cease to function
I float in space, eyes shut, nose empty of any scent’s trace

and I can finally understand why sound is so closely tied to memory.

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