What Goes Best with A Bowl of Wisps?

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Whatever I’ve tried doing today, I just can’t seem to be content. I’ve spaced out on this blog for an hour, tried watching TV, and even tried chilling. I just seem restless in a tiny, yet big space. The mind travels off the map sometimes.

Floating thoughts at the moment, in case you’re interested!

Is there really a point in learning Mozart? Especially when one isn’t a classical pianist, and there’s no concert or coffee shop gig to prepare for. I’ve recently been learning the joy of playing for self. A few years ago, I didn’t understand that concept. But it’s just as well that my plate is currently light, considering I haven’t truly practice in years. My hands have gotten sore in a short amount of time, and it’s taken me a few weeks to learn the first page of a modern piano piece. It’s still a waltz, but the film from which it’s from makes it more current than Beethoven & Chopin. But hey! I’ve learned one whole page of a waltz that I imagine would sound awesome on a piano in the middle of a crowd someday.

And did you know that we’re only 20 weeks in to 2020? Somehow, that time length sounds shorter than 5 months. Tomorrow starts week 21. I’ve had 10 main goals in mind for the year, and their progress are as wispy as what happens when Googling images for this word. You’re welcome! ^_^ Admittedly, wispy is just fun to say.

On a day when one should do stuff but doesn’t feel like it, I guess that’s where sitting at a piano all day could be considered an accomplishment. What’s more, I don’t even have to play. I could just sit and make that the day’s purpose.

Maybe that’s the point of Mozart…

—To use it as one distraction to run away from other distractions!

❤ Laters!

 

 

 

Cue the trapeze.

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Perspective pedals a tiny tricycle around a path of twists and tangles, while honking a cheery horn. With a wagon red smile and frizzy kissed hair, my eyes try looking beyond the paint. It’s well done but not waterproof.

I tried following its logic, but the only thing I ask is—where does my heart get to rest in all this. I’m sure it’s allied with time, but the importance of the latter can wait outside the door until further notice. Though, the ticking doesn’t stop or is anything but silent.

But what if all the confusion that Perspective brings could be cleared up with a bunch of balloons. We could even hold a candlelit ceremony at sunset, say thanks, and watch everything ascend gracefully. Of course, I would welcome the winds’ whispered favor.

Then again, I’m sure five seconds after a peaceful sendoff, the time that I had totally forgotten about and tried to ignore would come crashing in. If it had rung the doorbell, I wouldn’t have heard it, for the only thing that kept me sane is up there with the balloons.

Perspective can be right.

Perspective can be wrong.

Perhaps, Perspective deserves a lollipop for all that I put it through.

 

 

 

Blog #11

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My brain scrunches up in angst and slides down to the end of my nose. And all that I can do to calm it is by remembering that the year is still young. Very young, indeed.

Not sure when I became the too careful type.  I remember diving forward without hesitation. There was no fear to flop, just pure innocence. As I’ve reflected the past career aspirations, I’ve concluded to stop pining for what was hoped for.  Instead, it’s okay to become who I’d like to be now.

But alas, I’m stuck again.

I see all the big opportunities out there that would require big leaps. But at the moment, I don’t think I’m cut out for the giant ones just yet. I definitely approached a few last year, but something inside me wants to jump but within limits. There are all these connections that I want to hold onto. And, it seems beyond me to jump off without knowing why.

The thing about wanting change, even small ones, doesn’t it require to give up something? And this is where I become wishy washy. I want change, but I currently feel at home with my current lifestyle. It has some steadiness and consistency to it, while leaving room for spontaneity. The problem, even if change were to come, a part of me secretly hopes things aren’t too different. And I know I can’t have both, change and sameness.

On the days when the world looks too big to handle, maybe that’s when I should consider poking at the opportunities that are intimidating. Someone is bound to have kicks and giggles during those times, and I hope it’s me.

If anything, I should try to be more curious about life’s opportunities. Maybe I could pretend life is one big drive, waiting for me and my out-of-socket-brain to turn down a street just to see where it goes.

 

 

 

 

Sayonara, 2019!

 

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Admittedly…

Ever since the toad on my toilet incident, I can’t help but keep an eye out for more. I’m not scared of them, just wondering how likely it’d happen again.

But here’s to the end of another year. When I think about the highlights of the year, they actually sound like the cards picked up in a boardgame.

I won two tickets to see Les Misérables from a newspaper. I remember finding out last minute, how I begged my boss to let me go, how I scurried to grab the tickets before the office closed, and how a plan was constructed under two hours.

My car went to the shop, and they let me borrow the biggest truck on the lot for a week.

I reunited with some relatives, and later went on a cruise where I saw my sister getting married. Same year, I saw an old friend also getting hitched.

I went on a solo trip and humorously, yet awkwardly, ran into one of my music heroes on the streets. Coming home after that, I ran into a lull in life and found reasons to sneak off occasionally to catch a concert or show.

I started learning a new language. And I love it. It’s bringing out different sides of me.

I played the violin only once this year as a guest player. And no one guessed it had been three years since I had played a note.

I even clashed with the dating scene a little bit.

Lastly, I went through numerous kinds of rejections that have strengthened and made me ready to take on new ones.

Here’s to not just a new year, as every year starts new. But here’s to…

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Admittedly, I’m not sure!

 

 

My trip to NYC, and yesterday morning’s bathroom guest.

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Today, I look back at how different two weeks can be. As last Friday had me in the middle of vacation, this past Friday morning was welcomed with a blood-curdling scream. Sleepy eyes and seconds after lifting the toilet lid, I realized that the porcelain throne was already taken. The gray fuzzy blob was a TOAD! The good news: it was the only one seen yesterday, as I consciously became the toad patrol of all toilets that came my way.

Perhaps it was a needed scream. Reality was truly back, and I did a great job this week resuming my work life and pretending not to have vacation withdrawal syndrome.

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So, I’ve recently come back from New York City, and I had the best time possible. For a city whose soundscape is composed of frequent sirens, loud chatter, and other general street noise, I still found moments of peace and gained better self-perception. I learned that if I really want something, I’m willing to make it happen.

As I look back on all the iconic spots, statues, and buildings, I smile at the little details like sitting on a train and being surrounded by five languages talking all at once—none of which were English. I also ran into one of my music heroes on the streets, only to be kicking myself later that I didn’t say anything. I will forever remember how we both stopped, smiled, and nodded at each other.

There was also a bagpipe player on the subway. And at Central Park, there was a man on a bicycle singing karaoke, “Prince Ali, yes it is he, Prince Ababwaaa!” He even had his own mic, amp, and music track. Why isn’t biking karaoke-ing an actualy thing?

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A week later, and my calves have recovered from all the feet travel between the walks. From the two hour coffee shop hunt to the two hour Central Park hike, I victoriously attended a Carnegie Hall concert in a cleanly state the same night. It was miraculous to have squeezed in a shower beforehand, for the NYC winds had covered me in dirt and all kinds of smells beforehand, some which I unfortunately inhaled.

But all the dust in the nose didn’t stop me from having a blast. My soul still hums the goosebump-filled serenades from the Hall, and it’s still infatuated by all the sightseeing from those few days.

By the time I returned home, I was a bit shocked. The hushed traffic and the absence of all other sounds questioned my ears. I also noticed my quick impatience with the slowest drivers and walkers in the world. To start the day in a different state and to end it in another challenged how quickly I could adapt to diverse environments.

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This was the first big trip that I single-handedly planned from beginning to end. And it tested me in different areas like travel planning, decision making, and instinct. The personal wins included finishing all work in advance, arriving to destinations on time, and resolving issues when technology wasn’t working half the time.

I thank up above for helping me make it through all nine yards. To go to NYC not knowing a soul was an adventure in itself.

Most importantly, the whole trip was frog-free.

 

 

 

 

Timing is everything.

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It’s safe to say that when trialed, everything read on life, theories, and philosophies go out the window. It’s like in between trials, I think of how wiser and better I’ve become since the last ones. But as soon as the need for survival hits—WHO CARES WHAT SO AND SO SAYS ABOUT KEEPING AFLOAT?! THEY’RE NOT HERE RIGHT NOW! JUST GET PAST THIS HURDLE!!

Out of everything that happened this week, the first place trophy goes to a dead car battery.

As its inconvenience squashed my big after work plans of coffee breaks and naps, it later revealed to be the greatest interference.

Well, the nap most certainly happened, just not according to my forecast. As I heeded the inaccurate advice of the person who jumped my car, I waited [*snoozed*] for half-an-hour before taking off. I triumphed through all errands, not daring to turn it off until I reached the mechanics. When I saw the experts walking towards me and my car with a jump box, different life lessons flooded my head.

***I shouldn’t push things off till later.***

***I could’ve broken down in the middle of a highway.***

***The car needs vacuuming because I decided to eat in my car.***

I tried predicting something as simple as an afternoon, but life came in to kindly say, “No, no, dear. I’ve got the better idea. You’ll have to wait and see!”

And you know what? Life was right.

Because the following day, I received some crushing news that ended a long ordeal. Days of sleep were even lost over it. But when I started up the new battery, all I could think of was how the previous day’s misfortune became a life saver to another day’s misfortune.

So, as my car runs like a new person being given a new heart, I hope that I too will take charge with rejuvenation.