And when I discovered that Chopin regretted composing Fantasie Impromptu at age 24,

I lost all my desire to play it. I began to hate it too. It reminded me of my pseudo-plays and poetry when I was 14 which I absolutely am so ashamed of right now. I cringe to think of how people might dig them out from the recesses of the internet when I’m dead and distribute it in 50 different languages all around the world and say what a genuis am I.

I would classify that as blackmail.

(But such a story will never happen for sure and I never would want it to happen.)

Crappy post #2

So below this is the second piece other than Quiet Heart that I wrote for The Person’s musical compositions, totally cool. Cool referring to the idea of a duet between words and music. He’s submitting it for some competition or something.

I have no idea why am I writing in this way today. Does not sound like me for sure but whatever. Actually I have an idea why but whatever as well. Probably my sugar high last night kicked in much too late(Right, yh? Haha, or acid high). I just have to get this down on my blog for some little known reason.

SO GAHHHHH, I HAVE TO WRITE 2 MORE PIECES, 1, A CLICHE PIECE ABOUT A RIVER, 2, A CLICHE PIECE ABOUT A PERSON STARING INTO SPACE IN THE MIDST OF PAINTING!!

I absolutely cannot handle cliche pieces very well.

And deadline: before the year ends. Alright, I’m mourning, for my eventual death, not for the eventual death of this year.

I observe that I worry a lot nowadays. And I tend to end up thinking very negatively about everything if I had time to think. When I came up with the idea of ‘Lines’ at first, I was really excited about it. I thought it was a really clever idea. And when I started writing, it became like leftover fruit cakes from christmas and when I finished, I thought I was nuts to have ever written it and held hopes for it. I was even hesitating whether I should send it to him or not BECAUSE THAT PERSON IS ONE OF THE NASTIEST AND SOMETIMES UNREASONABLE CRITIC YOU’LL EVER ENCOUNTER ON EARTH.

I was afraid that he might kill the piece and therefore kill my already-little-left-will to write.

But the funniest thing was that he thought it was one of the greatest thing I’ve written.

I didn’t feel very glad, just relieved. Poof.

And I still didn’t think it was as great as he thought.

Events of this nature have been occuring very frequently nowadays, where I think something is hopeless and bad and really, really bad, it often turns out okay, far from my range of expectation.

And now I’ll go play piano for a bit and start on the 2 pieces soon.

Oh yeah, Karaoke Party is fun. Just that I think that my pitch is always a flat down from the actual note so I’m always scoring in the light green range. I have a really huge range though. I scored rather well in Whitney Houston’s I will always love you and Celin Dion’s My heart will go on but that’s because they have those reaaaaaaally longggggg draggy notes where I have chances to adjust my pitch up a sharp and that’s where I score a lot.

Lines

Think of us as lines. He brought his hands forward uncertainly, as if discovering them for the first time. Bringing them up to chest level, he made a rigid slicing motion. Both hands in sync and parallel to each other, shoulder-width apart. Lines, parallel to-

He paused and looked down, maintaining the stance for at least four breaths. I saw his shoulders heave, a momentous act in this air of still. He moved them closer, almost touching but never. More like this.

Now, say one of us-you, chose to head towards my direction. He brought back his hands and sliced the air again, with the left hand slightly deviating towards the right. Air, the invisible steak. He failed to consider the implications of representing me with his left hand. The subconscious, I know very well. Right is to dominant as left is to.

I almost smirked at this seemingly insignificant piece of knowledge.

And when both lines meet, they do not cross. He reenacted the colliding motion again and again, again and again. Fingers tip to tip, forming a narrow, miserable triangle. They collide. And we say hi, thinking that we would remain like this forever.

These lines obey the rule of the same creator. Human is to age as line is to. They move-continuously, until their time runs out. And they shrivel away and deconstruct, like they had never lived. And we collide, engaging in the inevitable power struggle where one tries to break free of the other.

The nature of lines is independence-seeking. Because you see, when we’re moving ahead in an inverse-V shape, one is bound to push past the other depending on the sum of all energy present in each.  It’s the friction that kills.

And the energy level never remains the same, so even if we possessed the same amount of energy when we meet, such that we end up traveling ideally on the same line, there is a higher than high possibility that one will eventually push the other off the edge.

Palms and wrists together, he made a firm push. The left hand sprang away. This impact is huge, because the entire body, the entire line is involved in this battle.

And what is left behind is but a broken soul.

He brought his hands back, slicing the air again. Parallel, parallel, close but never touching.

So, do you still want to travel where you are headed?

And where am I headed?

 

*For jeffchrisbenji’s musical composition (go guess who the hell that person is)

Crappy post

OMG, horror! I saw something I typed a year ago and worse still, everyone could see it, everyone who do not know me well enough to know that that person who typed is totally unlike myself right now.. This is one of my worst unspeakable but totally ridiculous and unjustifiable horrors.

Immediately, I feel like disappearing into a hole under the ground, I remember the idiom for this is not phrased like that. Seriously, it makes me convulse in horror. Its totally scary. And it makes me incoherent.

Totally embarrassing :O

And let’s count the number of ‘totally’s I use. Horror, horror. Y_Y Its so embarrassing.

AH, THIS IS PROBABLY THE ONLY THING THAT COULD TRIGGER SOME EMOTIONS FROM ME, HOWEVER NEGATIVE >_>

Graphjam is addictive

http://graphjam.com

Actually, reading the comments is even more addictive.

Zach Condon, Beirut

Zack Condon Interview with Rolling Stone

A Sunday Smile (Takeaway show. Live but not really live in that sense)

A sunday smile, you wore it for a while.

Zach Condon is pure genius. Beirut is more than awesome.

http://www.blogotheque.net/ Vincent Moon shot that video.