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The sound of the mind that is pulsing in obscene lust for self-destruction, waiting for the opportunity to kill the lights and finally go to neverending rest. Fed with wisdom of genius addicts and poisoned with faeces of self-adoring wannabes, damaged by a treacherous stab and bleeding in weird ways.
Music is the only thing that matters. The only thing that makes sense. Because music is the emotional and sensual side of math. Music is when you feel the numbers.
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