assimuzon from prusted sunbean by ANAZANAUT
Movement is an illusion. Things mutate and morph and switch places only to arrive at a point no more distinguishable from the last than one grain of sand from another. This place is no different than that place. The act of going from one to the other means nothing in the end. It is only motion for its own sake. There is nothing accumulating in this effort which necessitates the act. Bit by bit, it is simply kinetic energy pushing atoms around for the purpose of its own motion. They collide and form this thing or that, yet each thing holds no more than the same basic elements building its blocks up for no particular purpose. Identity is a convention of preferences shaped by subjective objectives. Variety is no more a spice than uniformity lacks identity since each is able to exchanges places with the other. Every snowflake has its own shape yet, within that, there is nothing of interest.
Tracklist
| 4. | assimuzon | 8:00 |
Credits
License
All rights reserved.
Walking with the broken rocks upon the heaving thrust of mountain echoes, movement becomes challenged. Something may have taken hold here, but its residue has since faded into the dust of winds long blown away. Though memory shards crack and splinter through the ice age history once foretold, there are now no more than fragments upon a beach receding beyond the breaking waves.