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Words, Words, Worthless Words
I waste them . . .
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Dig this jam, my friends!
I dare say it’s flamenco adjacent.1
Doesn’t cost a thing to listen once or twice over on the Bandcamp.
I took the title from a poem I’d scribbled in a journal at some point.
I say “I believe” this recording was made in the 90’s because the mixed up file that produced this nugget had this metadata:
Generally when my Mac tells me a file was created in 1969, it’s telling me it doesn’t know for certs when it came to be.2
I was born on February 8th of that year, and as rudimentary as the playing seems to be, I would not have been able to pull this off as an infant.
I was mainly just trying to flesh out a riff idea when I made this, and since it didn’t have any words, this title seemed to fit.
The original poem went something like:
Words, words, worthless words
I waste them on your precious face.
I don’t really think words are worthless, but they are inadequate in their way.
I’ve been listening to this audiobook as I fall asleep for the past couple weeks.
The subtitle: “How Animal Senses Reveal the Hidden Realms Around Us” makes me think about words and how inadequate they can be.
Dogs basically have part of their brain on the tip of their snout and they can smell disease in humans.
We’re missing out on some pretty important information the universe is sending us and overdosing on other aspects, like how beautiful rainbows are.
Damn they’re beautiful!
I remain your humble servant,
I might be at fault with this faulty dating system.