| the music that can't be seen, but felt |
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oranje. |
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the ten minutes spent on the piano were sort of the hardest minutes throughout the practical paper and the whole exams. it was pretty much staring at all the pages, hoping to hit the right notes, hoping desperately. then the half-panting and sweating like mad thanks to the fifteen minutes on trumpet before that plus a disgusting rendition of arban. a desperate hope for the fingers to move along with the notes, but i was struggling like a cow. felt like giving up several hundred times, distracted by the many times thinking abt how the teacher went through note after note with me lingering somewhere at the back of my mind, distracted by how shitty this is, how i can forget about music as a career or passion which i can't even play music in. draining. i think when perfection starts looking unrealistic, passion will start to be doubted, heavily. things like toot suite or a small dose of 'can't take my eyes off you' or 'when the saints go marchin' in' are just a relegated consolation. hmm. just trying to be realistic. been letting my music teachers down. things seem to be quite ironically funny when we attempt to want to care for others' lives, when we can't even handle our own; hoping to make a big difference in others' when we aren't ready to do so for ourselves. okay tmr morning will be the start of a better day and few days or weeks. happy teachers' day! performed 23:21 ©
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