I live on a sixth floor of Aguero Street. During the last couple of years I have been doing intimate improvisations with the voice and the computer in my house, usually in my room or in the room of my parents who currently live in Lima. In the two spaces the same situation happens, they are not accused and the windows are in the border of the building common air light making every sound bounce like a big sound box. On the fourth floor they have been making a refit for more than six months. In addition to the typical sounds of a construction project, the workers have been having fun listening to the radio at full volume and generating a mixture of drills, laughter and melodies of national rock. The problem is not them, the problem is the common light air space. The rabbi's children who live on the first floor scream very loudly and I can listen them very clearly on the sixth. They are seven. Children and floors. One is a baby and cries. Another complains that his brother is hiding something in his hands and he doesnโ€™t want to show it. They scream. In the background, closer physically but farther away audibly the constant rhythm of my washing machine is heard. One of the children coughs and mingles with the cry of another. Something like Akghu Akguku AAAAAA Duahaaa. In the distance, a door opens with a rather sharp sound as I feel the noise of some glass jars being drawn. Now I only hear the vacuum cleaner that is very close to me and I feel a vibration in the floor probably because someone from the fifth decided to move from one place to another a piece of furniture. Despite the vacuum cleaner, I still hear the shouts of the rabbi's children. The problem is that the patio is in the air-light. The six floors away completely dissolve and it is as if we all lived together. Maybe my voice is too fragile.
Gradually, the boys fighting in the background, the laughter, the screams, the electric saw, the hammering, the cry of a baby, and my voice flowed in the compositions. The computer, witness and intermediary, was the main instrument to create an atmosphere of sensitive sounds from mechanical or annoying noises. Sometimes I think we function in the same way as a computer, and like her, there are occasional intermittent faults: breaths, whistles, stutters, whispers, utterances. My code, I mean, my DNI is 33443286.

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