Experiment i form och metod

No we cannot move says the man in the hawaiian shirt and flared jeans and stands as still as his genre has been doing for the last twenty odd years, unlike the soundtrack genre, which ever flows shifts and changes with the times, style of film and audience, not that I would know, considering I really know absolutely nothing about soundtrack history, but it seemed like a reasonable conclusion based on the fact that rock is rock, a genre, while soundtrack is a field, encompassing a multitude of genres within it self, or something to that effect.

And all the while, that is while the man in the hawaiian shirt said he cannot move and these thoughts I just described coursed through my head, the rain fell ever heavier and the fog lay ever thicker over whatever town I was in at the moment, I'm never quite sure anymore -- my eyes are failing me you see, but I'm not bitter, or even upset, it's only what naturally comes after you've lived as long as I have, although I'm not quite sure how long that is either, since I stopped wearing a clock, reading the papers or buying a calendar what now seems like ages ago, and I can't even remember why anymore, only that I'm better off for it, for I can always move.