I'm sitting. It's very, very still. There is no sign of life. It is as though time has stood still. Not a leaf is quivering. Not a whisper of a breeze. Not a cloud in the sky. Mammals are completely absent. The music crashes and explodes into the serenity. For the trained ear, this is nothing out of the normal. For the third eye, it is an aberrant, something that ought to be obliterated. But then, the third eye never was a part of the life of the trained ear. It was a union that was sought by the trained ear but was shunned by the third eye. Now the trained ear has learnt to go the distance alone, to wing it. The third eye, that was once so important to please for the trained ear, is now worth no more than a mere thought.
"So will you please FUCK OFF?" - Stillwater band manager Dick in Almost Famous