When you think about the fact that nobody can say when time started nor when it ends, when you consider how long a line that is, an incomprehensibly long line, assuming it could even be a line. Then if you consider how long you are alive and how much space you occupy on that line of time clearly you are so infinitely minuscule, arguably not even here, not even ever were here. Music is loved because it reminds us of ourselves, reminds us that it is something that appears to be alive, just like we do, but aren’t.