Below I have created a compendium of euphonious audio flavors for curious adventurers.
I do not own the rights to these songs, I simply compiled the playlists, it is strictly my wish that any human who wanders into these playlists simply uses them to find a deeper understanding of this Exercise In Dimensions.
What you know now, how you know it, when you knew it, if you do/What is current responds to little/As it pushes, weaves, flows and passes through.
Bryson W. Hatfield
When small waves take on heat and the valleys in your hand begin to curl/The world still seems such a dizzying place,/Colors bright, brighter, brightest; so bright you may hurl /Yourself into a small fishbowl and let the asmosphere fold in, /The thoughts of drowning no longer plague your fox-sharp mind
Bryson W. Hatfield
To the creeping thought that flows like a millipede beneath the skin,/what has passed is broken, shattered, burned and somehow filmy; thin/Wavelengths of thought hold and loop and grow, /Thickening and sickening the rot of mind through time.
Bryson W. Hatfield
An Empty glass, caked in dirt/raised up as a salute to what could have been/But never was; so many things just shy of /success; the steel, the copper, the tin, /The smoke, each a rugged reminder/of nature running its course,/A herd of tan strangers coated in distress,/bringing with them/Only the thought of change
Bryson W. Hatfield
Light bends and shatters from an organized prism, the kinetic energy of the sun/Exploding from white to R-O-Y-G-B-V, and we find in that second the truth: /That within the world and everything that can and will and lives, is a spectrum of kaleidoscopic color; from this the question is posed, “What does a man feel when he falls from a roof? The rainbow, or the reaching earth?”
Bryson W. Hatfield
Little Spud In The Big Apple 