He is Max Richter.......sesreV si sihT

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Maybe, in some distant place, everything is already, quietly, lost. Or at least there exists a silent place where everything can disappear, melding together in a single, overlapping figure. And as we live our lives we discover-drawing towards us the thin threads attached to each what has been lost. I closed my eyes and tried to bring to mind as many beautiful things as I could. Drawing them closer, holding on to them. Knowing all the while that their lives are fleeting... knowing all the while that their lives are fleeting







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