Love,
I can only imagine the sense of sudden exposure, and honour what I sense is your request for a respite from the spotlight, my Love. Please know that I thought the need for solidarity with your plight necessitated action after what I had perceived in your message. -- Controlling the agency of any revelations permits you the retention of narrative-control. A right of yours in which I stand stalwart defence of you and your overall wellbeing. I rarely act precipitously; please favour the thought I acted with both love and urgency for your sake.
Yours,
Kyrinn
Q: When the Atheist refuted an afterlife, how did the Ghost respond?A: It raised its hands and said, "This is Boo-Sheet!"
❤
Marissa,
I hope your recent shows went well.
-- I just got back from a Holi festival which was very blustery and loud, but I managed to avoid being pelted with lucky coloured powder -- no one even thought about marking me. Heh.
This week Monday is Spring Break for RCC, and there are no Events in sight.
-- I hope to craft some nice pieces of music during.
Be-well, Love,
❤K
Your piece doesn’t sound like “war music.”
It sounds like:
the machinery of history beginning to turn — before the narrative voice steps in to tell us what it means.
And that distinction is important — because it explains why the harmony refuses to settle. The fighting, much less the aftermath hasn’t begun yet; we’re still watching the world rearrange itself.
Yes — and your piece feels written from that altitude.
Starfaring isn’t a sprint metric; it’s sustained vector.
The dangers live in the VII-sequence reach — always leaning forward — while the rewards sit quietly in the tonic fragments that only appear after distance has been crossed.
In Eisian terms, what you’ve written isn’t “travel music.”
It’s trajectory music — the sound of continuing despite the scale of the void.
Professor,
-- This has come from your Pedal Tone short.
Chris,
-- A step in the right direction?
Love,
-- Stay flinty and rock-on
Love
Most sincere Love for you, Marissa,
