HMV

Try and buy... HMV listening booths in the 1960s.

Sitting in identical booths, immersing into different worlds of fantasies. This is the story of life, the story of fate. The story of our fate.
Only until that day when we are forced out of our own worlds, seized into pieces of unconsciousness, will we know whether we would last forever, put into the wheels of recurrence, or entering the real full stop. We try to, or even force ourselves to, channel ourselves into waves of music to get a taste of what our future beyond the end note feels like. Music is an escape which offers no escape. It is paradise in one sense, hell in another.

Still, we cannot resist but unwillingly go to music if we ever feel an urge for an escape. And this may be the most beautiful stupidity this world will ever see.