Too little is known on how a voice is picked up amongst background noises of all sorts and singularly focused upon. Too little is known on how a voice makes such an impression that its mere presence, when detected, is felt and processed as a physiological massage. Too little is known on how a voice can have such an impact on one person and yet totally fail to cause attention in another. There is too little that psychology or speech and hearing science can offer us, too much that remains (or, rather, is left behind) unanswered. Pitch and frequency provide us not enough tools to even correlate a unique person to voice, let along to further uncover what effects the perception of one incurs in another.
All we seem to know is that, consistent with Jing's 'character,' it apparently makes sense that I would like the 'first' thing I contact, and resist all future exposures at all costs like a fertilized egg concretely walling off all sperm past the first. Maybe I'm stubborn; maybe I'm close-minded. Maybe I just have that much loyal faith, or maybe that is my expression of resistance to change, holding on to the last remnant of my first expression and realization of self at thirteen. All that is fine and dandy speculation, but none can explain why, irrevocably, Kyo and only Kyo's voice has the effect it does on my ears, in my brain, in my resonating gut and pulse and sharp tender rasping diaphragm.
Today, Itoshisa was the it. After one play from random shuffle, it got stuck on single repeat like so many other Deg songs have, at one point or another. As always, the lyrics or even the story are moot; all that stings/pricks/carves out into me is his, his voice. There is tender exposed raw meat, there, that I feel I can eternally feed off. Stuff I would dearly miss if deprived.
For some reason I suspect most people (if any at all) have not experienced anything even remotely comparable to what I try to describe here, even once.
I play my zither amongst a cattle herd.
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