Small. Short. Just takes a little more than a few minutes, the prelude to Bach cello suite No.1. Feeling to which end the words, then there is only landscapes, and all the memories turn into landscapes, images without thinking whether it was good or bad, and cello melody that gives no respite. The words do not go silent and listen, the melody is the speaker. I can not think of any more intense than the tempo and harmony of moments, the shock of cold and heat, good feelings and become bitter for sweet and sour maybe ... Days which are a set number of hours their minutes and their second invented by man to determine and feel a little less alone. Time exists only get older or maybe the years are only one measure, vece are more and sometimes less. A little respite stop thinking, the river does not stop. Their sound goes into the bowels of those who hear it run. Once you conquer the loneliness, may perhaps know that one is happy and a little less sad. That cello holds imposing continuous present to listen.
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