“A child in the dark, gripped with fear, comforts himself by singing under [his] breath. He walks and haults to his song. Lost, he takes shelter, or orients himself with his song as best he can. The song is like a rough sketch of a calming and stabilizing, calm and stable, center in the heart of chaos. Perhaps the child skips as he sings, hastens or slows his pace. But the song itself is already a skip: it jumps from chaos to the beginnings of order in chaos and is in danger of breaking apart at any moment. ”
--Deleuze and Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus
Cold as graves.
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