Slow fast-realization

I sat in yoga pose
Content with the world
I had woken early
I was an early bird

I looked out the window
My phone began to ring
I looked at the wall clock
I began to think

It was 8.20 AM
The previous evening
I had set an alarm call
To ring at eight fifteen

Well frankly I thought, the alarm had
called me from the past
.
.
.
Then I realized,
My wall clock was fast.

--Amber Light

A Mini-Ode to the PC and the backspace key

I hit this wretched backspace key
More than I ever write
My blinking cursor goes left
More often than it goes right.

If it were not for the computer
I could never ever rhyme
If it were not for this machine here
I'd perhaps be a mime.

-- Amber Light

Musical Memory

That voice, that delicate twist in tune, every variation in beat, every little imperfection, takes me back to that moment in time when I first heard it. It takes me back to every instance since.

Does that mean if my life had a continuous soundtrack, I could remember every instant of my life forever?

I remember every lyric of a song even after years of not having heard it. I can hum the instrumental fillers and tap out the beat on my table (or in my head). To an extent that I freak myself out about how I could possibly remember that detail.

After having thought about it enough, I am convinced that this could only be possible because our brains are made to understand and communicate through music much more efficiently than any thing else in the world. Which means that our memory is able to interact with music better than words.