... now the pace is more bland ... everything is much less dense dissolved ... ... ... and scattered I end up in a park. Yes, it's about that time, more or less so, perhaps. ... There is still sun light ... a sun fades ... dumb ... musicians, two, they play a sax, the other guitar in front of me and them, I should say him ... An almost continuous stream of people flowing from side to side, not a destination, but all have one inside, clear ... or maybe not? Someone on a bike, someone runs ... someone will be happy, some not, some do not. It matters little my way, hear my music. It makes little sense no longer a goal, it makes little sense mere survival ...
... sounds, well, well ... ... Sweet jazz, happy, cute, curvy ...
... and flows throughout, as their notes, short breaks, some sharp, some low, some backbeat ... and get a laugh ... ... But I, I got to do that ...? ... And the guitar sound ...
I feel like a ghost, I see , feel Almost touch , but no one knows I exist! But I ... exist?
They stop playing and go away before I leave a few coins ... maybe now ... maybe now exist!
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