Singing in my cage, an exquisite noise muddles to the background of an essential instrument. I take directions, go with the flow, enter the holly of hollies as a whole. My sadness is played in minor, my soul speeds on a chrome arrow, piercing the waves of a resonate rumble. The major, perceived as a cloud of white noise, covers the song of my silent singalong. And from minor to major, the flickering sound is wildly orchestrated when no one's around.