Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Today, as I was singing cheerfully about the pretty yellow flowers by the road, I dashed across the road by mistake.
That black car, screeched. That motorcycle, shunned off path. The car stopped, leaving no breathing space between us. I wanted so much to crumble on the road. But I took quick steps, as I allowed my wobbly legs carry me where I was to go, with a stricken look upon my face as tears streamed down uncontrollably. Fear, shock, was all i possessed.
All i needed was someone to lean on, to collapse on.
In that split second, I was so afraid, so afraid it was over.
Why is it when I run my fingers through those 88 black and white keys, the sound surrounds me, envelopes me, for that moment, I lose reality.
With that, comes my dream of being a violinist after attainment of my piano diploma. Was it owen, or Brahms, Schumann and Clara, or just the tragic sound a violin produces that tugs on your heart, and spites the most raw wounds, or just that, it allows me to bring music to every part of this world, unlike the piano.
This world wasnt made for you to live in, but to conquer it.
Your life wasnt given to you to be successful, but to be extraordinary.
How long are you going to wait before you fufil dreams that only adolescence can approve of?
Brahms Intermezzo in A major, Op 118 No 2.
the time is 12:50 AM
Today, as I was singing cheerfully about the pretty yellow flowers by the road, I dashed across the road by mistake.
That black car, screeched. That motorcycle, shunned off path. The car stopped, leaving no breathing space between us. I wanted so much to crumble on the road. But I took quick steps, as I allowed my wobbly legs carry me where I was to go, with a stricken look upon my face as tears streamed down uncontrollably. Fear, shock, was all i possessed.
All i needed was someone to lean on, to collapse on.
In that split second, I was so afraid, so afraid it was over.
Why is it when I run my fingers through those 88 black and white keys, the sound surrounds me, envelopes me, for that moment, I lose reality.
With that, comes my dream of being a violinist after attainment of my piano diploma. Was it owen, or Brahms, Schumann and Clara, or just the tragic sound a violin produces that tugs on your heart, and spites the most raw wounds, or just that, it allows me to bring music to every part of this world, unlike the piano.
This world wasnt made for you to live in, but to conquer it.
Your life wasnt given to you to be successful, but to be extraordinary.
How long are you going to wait before you fufil dreams that only adolescence can approve of?
Brahms Intermezzo in A major, Op 118 No 2.
the time is 12:50 AM