a pile of disposed sounds

Where does sound go after you stop hearing it?  

I think it falls onto the ground.  I think it bounces a little as it hits the ground and the ground pushes against the sound.  And I think it forms a pile as other sounds fall and they accumulate on top of each other.  It’s a mess of disposed sounds that will never exist again.  An accidental structure collecting the carcasses of all sounds ever heard. 

When I was small, I used to feel like the right side of the piano keyboard was curling upwards and towards me while I was playing.  Everything by Ravel looked navy blue with a little bit of purple. And there was this one piece with a phrase located at the top section of the right page that always triggered images of cartoon cows on a farm and yogurt in my mind whenever I played it.  I think it was a Clementi Sonatina.

Now I’ve grown up and I don’t have weird synesthesia anymore.  I kind of just space out while playing, jumping from one thought embedded in my subconscious to another, and forgetting all of it once I stop.  I try to make sense of sound afterwards but it feels futile once it’s lodged in the pile.