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!

 

 

 

Onward!

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“A ship is always safe at shore, but that is not what it’s built for.”

~Albert Einstein

If life was sitting in front of me right now, I think it’d say, “That wasn’t a big of a leap enough.”

Honestly, I think that’s the reason why I didn’t mind the most recent rejection. And you know what? It was the silent kind, yet I’m okay having found out the way I did.

Going into the attempt of making a change, I knew it would have allowed me to keep everything the same. Yes, I would have made a bit more money. But had the opportunity worked out, I wouldn’t have been challenged. It would have required continuing to put up with what I’m aware is making me tired.

WHY are we willing to put ourselves through trials that we know we should walk away from? It must be that going through trials are life’s necessities.

Einstein said it. We are made to do more. If we can somehow be willing to unlock our potentials, we can maybe discover our purpose for living. And if nothing’s uncovered, I guess it means we get to shut our eyes and point in a random direction, hoping for the best.

I may not be excited, but I am curious to see what’s next. Because that opportunity didn’t work out, that means I’m needing to step outside my comfort zone and try something else.

Maybe life is expecting more from me than what I’ve been putting in.

Here I go!

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.

 

 

 

 

Somedays, a head’s a heavy burden.

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I feel dusty.

Like the salt and pepper keys that have stayed quiet for sometime now.

In a black tomb like a fellow fiddle.

Other strings are where I last left them, secured on the sidelines.

 

Maybe I’m caked with doubt and insecurities.

I see the world around me changing, though I know

I’m still uncertain.

I see all the things I am and not.

But why should I care for this eternal wallow?

 

If there’s anything I can currently live for,

It’s every deep breath.

For that’s when I restart.

The battle to keep what I want continues.

I may be resting,

But I’m not done.

 

 

After living it out successfully, I end the day with a paper cut on my elbow from running into a wall calendar.

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It’s been one of those days where a soda, some chocolate covered peanuts, and a hot dog in a toasted poppy seed bun were for lunch, and a coffee and cake were a dinner’s appetizer. My metal water bottle was also threatened of being thrown away, as it was considered a potential weapon. Thankfully, no one lost their fingers. And fun fact: I somehow snuck off mid-morning for a mini adventure, and I didn’t come back until nine hours later. It was also a day where if I had tried taking pics, they wouldn’t have truly caught all the beauty that was witnessed. Some adventures really are meant to just enjoy, as if made only for the soul’s pleasure.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought I was back in NYC. Maybe it was how the streets were numbered like avenues. Or how my nose was intrigued by fried chicken in the midst of people and city odor. I also came across a construction site where the sidewalk tunneled under a metal bridge and the sound of hammers argued above. The map on my phone even malfunctioned, and I ended up needing to ditch it and use headsmarts.

I even found the same bakery chain as I had adored in NYC. Except, the store found today was at least ten times bigger than the shoe box sized venue from last month. It had the same foods and decoration style, but somehow the vibe felt tiring.

And for the first time in several years, I got so twisted lost on the way home from my little day venture. If I hadn’t taken a few wrong turns, I would’ve been home an hour earlier. And you know what? I think I also got bamboozled by my GPS. And that too hasn’t happened in several years. The route I was following took me in different loops and u-turns that I later learned weren’t necessary.

And guess what? I get back home late, and no one questions where I’ve been. There was all this hype on the way home of what I’d share, and if all would be excited to hear of the mini day trip.

I might sound like I’m complaining, but today really was a good day. I somehow experienced NYC and the old I-got-super-lost-on-the-way-home me in the same day. It was an unexpected, frustrating combination, but it worked out. I forgot what it was like to get messy lost and to laugh victoriously when I figured out how to come out of it.

❤ Goodnight!

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

The phrase “Use your time wisely” has never sunk in until recently.

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I’ve been going through a phase of guilt.

The things I’ve liked doing, I’ve stopped.

I’ve stopped music.

I’ve stopped dancing.

I’ve just stopped everything.

Anything I’ve started in the last five years, I haven’t finished or continued with.

And I keep going through that cycle of starting and stopping. I start playing or moving, and I remember how good I was. And then the guilt of stopping kicks in. I think the source is knowing that I’d be better now, if I hadn’t stopped. Cause maybe secretly, having a life filled with the stuff I like sounds truly great. If not a job, just to be enveloped in it all the time.

I could tumble endlessly into the excuses of why I keep quitting. Yes, life happens. Yes, responsibilities increase. Yes, time moves on, waiting for nobody.

When I was in school, I remember running into adults who said phrases like, “I used to do…” or “I used to be great at…” And I remember thinking that that could never happen to me. And that I would do everything to avoid living that way.

But don’t get me wrong.

I haven’t stopped fighting for the things I want.

But you know what?

In order to fight, you have to know your cause.

And I think I’ve temporarily lost it.

The whole “I’m lost!” thing really sticks sometimes.

 

 

 

 

4am insomnia.

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No two days are alike. The times I hoped for sameness, I don’t know why I had the slightest expectations for predictability. Because as much as we can control ourselves, anything beyond is beyond our control. We cannot change the weather or the pebbles that get blown at our feet. We intercept them, somehow become a part of their day. But in the end, we’re in charge of where we step, how we react, and what we filter.

For better or worse, we let things come into our lives, but we also block what we dislike. And depending on the day, depends on what we decline. These tendencies are probably why our days are always changing. We’re the captains or the kings of our lives. And somehow, the rest of the day meets us halfway. As the day clearly has its plans, and I have my own, it’s a hit or a miss when we come together.

What do we accept or reject for the day. If feeling great, maybe we disagree with anything negative about ourselves. And on a day feeling down, we’re inclined to push away any positive remarks. Maybe we intended to push them aside for an even rainier day, but somehow we forget to remember.

But if a day is the same as yesterday, does that mean all elements remain the same. Would a same day mean that the same amount of time passes, but no one even ages. For better or worse, that’d mean we didn’t change, that we’re powerless. And I think that’s worse than having the two same days.

For the cost of aging, I’d change for the world. Cause if there are two bad days in a row, I hope to not react the same as yesterday. And if there is a great day tomorrow, I hope I’d be ambitious enough to make it even greater.

For the love of curiosity!

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Mischief struck me.

The cruise ship docked, and the travelers left for their destinations. But what I cared about wasn’t out there. Staying aboard, I headed to a grand sunlit room where the welcoming doors were quite inviting.

As I hoped for an empty ship, I knew the reality was still better than most times. I assumed that the few who occupied the room weren’t threatening.  The travelers chilled with their drinks, and the bartender looked quite tame. Walking past their slumped backs and pretending to be interested in the windows, I turned around to face heart’s desire. I dared to lift the lid quietly with a finger.

Blasted. 

The piano was locked.

Laughter rippled through my body and was followed by the nerves that set free. I no longer needed them. The ship’s crew must have seen me coming. And guess what? The people in the room remained perfectly oblivious. At least I didn’t try the piano in the ship’s foyer. Though, it was tempting cause I saw that one first. Now I understand why some pianos are left unguarded.

As I imagined what I would’ve played, I also fantasized its consequences resulting in a blaring alarm or a crumbling ship. The mission seemed so important, and the thrill was in the risk.

But the important thing is that I survived so to continue laughing in my wiser days.