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Friday, April 13, 2007

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chorale concert approaches celerius quam asparagi co ur; tomorrow is the beginning of the end and the end of the beginning, if i can say that without being too cheezy. i don't know what to feel; yet i do feel somethings, but they seem contradictory, and i don't want to feel some of it, yet i do. it's what they call conflicting feelings, i believe. 力不从心; the mind is willing but the heart is weak. did it really go another way..? hahAhha..

so much lost due to fear and appearances. fear of appearing certain ways, fear of seeming to mean something that one does not, fear of displeasing, fear of failing.. appearing in a way that one is not, giving others the wrong impression, distancing unintentionally or otherwise.. it's because of all the haziness. the fog of war, they call it, the fog of war within the battle of life. such are our strategies.

make some attempt to master your instrument, if you please.. there is so little respect for our voices, partially because we are so reluctant to flaunt them, as noted by several people. being able to sing well, ostensibly, in a choir, and nowhere else is like a pianist being able to play nothing but bach. it's very impressive when you do it, but it kind of wears dry very quickly when you find that you're unwilling to do it any other way. understandably we have our standards. so not trying for them while we are supposedly able to reach them is better than trying and failing, trying and trying, how?

there are always ideals, but really, how isn't everything an ideal? let me explore this thought. the way any one artwork can have so many meanings, evoke different feelings in different people, each word can evoke certain feelings too. each letter that forms the word, the relationship with the other letters in the word; the proximity to certain other letters, the presence of certain letters in the word. so each word is unique, means different things to different people, yet each work evoke a very specific feeling for each person, because of the way they view the composition of the word.

so the way we see the bits and pieces that make up the world, and the way we imagine them when they are as perfect as they can be-

1am edit!:saved as draft for tmr actually, but aiyah what the.
talking with fiona till so late, phew. concert tmr leh. aiyah sleep in.
much stuffs we talked manyly about.
yeah im irritated with myself k.
i shall just lose the persona. the bottom line is, there is a picture of perfection of every thing, and darned if i don't get there sometime. but moments are just lost like that, wrong moves made. having eternity doesn't equate to being able to redo things that are already done.
i believe i just lost sight that the road to perfection isn't; it is the perfect road. to begin to walk it.. that's the problem i have, and i'm incredibly pissed at myself for how things are working out.
everyone has an idea of how things should be, and if yours is just the same as mine, we're probably predestined to be soulmates or something. so the thing is, how? the conflict between ideals, the stupid ways i try to reach my ideal, and how you think i'm being stupid at wanting the ideal i seem to want.

before i sleep, i just give up. it's more than i thought you thought i was being an ass now; now it's more than that. so i totally give up. take it away, whoever. i'm ready.
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9:31 pm