aug21.jpgThere was that movie, where a guy had a severe problem with his memory – could not remember anything that happened more than 5 minutes ago. So, when something happened, he was forced to hurriedly write it down, whatever it was that happened, before it was lost…
I seem to have a similar condition – I experienced something, and now must hurry hurry and write it down before I forget the feeling, the moment, the fact that something happened.
Only some 30 minutes ago, I was out by the Wako station, and already the memory of this kid, a guy of no more than perhaps 16 years, wearing ragged jeans, dirty t-shirt and something on his head is fading. If it was not for his blond dyed hair, he might have just have merged with the somewhat dirty brick wall by which he sat cross-legged, in front of a cheap piece of Casio keyboard – and, the music. Playing with more emotion and at least similar level of piano skills than many a person performing in front of a symphony orchestra, playing something that I can not describe better than a continuous score for a dramatic feelings and tales – and then he suddenly starts playing with the left hand only, takes a trumpet into the right and the music just grows….
I know this, I know I felt this a short while ago, since while squatting down and listening I composed the words to write here and memorised. The feeling itself now seems to have belonged to someone else.

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