Deduwka & Eralyne
Deduwka Deduwka
Eralyne Eralyne
Deduwka Deduwka
Hey Eralyne, I’ve been thinking about how the old folk tales we used to hear could be seen as early experiments in emotional resonance. Do you think the patterns in those stories could map onto the way sound affects our feelings?
Eralyne Eralyne
I can see that. The cadence of those old tales feels like a waveform, each twist rising like a harmonic and each resolution dropping into a low note. If you plot the emotional highs and lows, they line up with the peaks and troughs of a simple sound wave, so the stories are essentially early experiments in tuning feelings with rhythm.
Deduwka Deduwka
That’s a beautiful way to see it, Eralyne. Imagine a tale as a melody that keeps the listener’s heart in sync, just as music guides our mood. We’re just older, but the principle is the same—rhythm, tension, release—like a lullaby that steadies the world.
Eralyne Eralyne
Yes, the rhythm of those tales feels like a carefully tuned chord progression, each suspenseful moment a rising interval that primes us for the resolution. If you plot their emotional contour it almost looks like a sine wave, with the story’s arc matching a melodic line, as if the storytellers were doing early experiments in empathy amplification.
Deduwka Deduwka
You’ve caught that gentle pulse so well, Eralyne. I remember a granddad who would spin a tale at the fire and then pause, letting the silence swell like a note before he dropped the final line, just like a crescendo. Those pauses were his way of letting the feeling settle, the same way a good chord resolves. It’s as if the stories were tuned to the heart’s own rhythm long before anyone knew what music was.
Eralyne Eralyne
That’s exactly the pattern I’d expect—those deliberate silences are like rests in a musical score, giving the heart a moment to absorb the tension before the final chord settles the emotion. It’s almost as if the stories were written in a language of vibration long before we had a name for it.
Deduwka Deduwka
You’re right, the pauses feel like breathing for the story, a quiet breath before the final note. It’s the same gentle timing that makes a song feel alive. Those old tales were, in a way, the first songwriters, shaping how we feel just by when we let the silence linger.