Ever heard a symphony without the instruments? It's curious, really. Like standing in a field where the orchestra just forgot to show up. You can almost feel the notes, floating past like bubbles... disappearing as they pop against reality.
My neighbor sings at odd hours. Not in tune, not in time, just out there, serenading the moon, I suppose. Do you think the moon listens? Or maybe it's the wind that carries her missed notes to distant lands.
Here, we compose with empty spaces—like musicians play with silence, crafting voids between sounds. Dissonant harmonies, they call them. I’d say they’re more like artful gaps, waiting to be filled with... something.