...Musical Interlude...
Sometimes it seems life is a tumultuous exercise...an orchestrated symphony without a conductor. Each musician do what they do, without direction or order. Without considering those they work with, to produce a noise rather than music. Without sense. Without fear.
Sometimes...
I don't understand myself. Its not uncommon for words to jumble in my head, but usually I can put pen to paper and transfer something to reflect upon later. These past few weeks...I struggled. I've opened a page with the intention of doing what I've done so many times before, but drawn a blank. My outlet seems no longer open to me...but I'm attempting now.
I feel that the music no longer sings. Its a jarring contemporary piece in perfect counterpoint. The less sense they make, the louder they become until they crescendo to a grandioso of garrulous clutter, before falling into a deafening void of silence. There they'll stay, until it is time to return to the beginning. Its a ternary piece, played over...and over...practising until perfection. Until a conductor can make itself known, and direct each person to perform when they should. Where they should.
That conductor is not me.
I had to sing at someone's funeral the other day. An endeavour I promised myself I'd never do again after the first time...yet I did. How can one say no to the woman who looked after me for most of the first 10 years of my life? Considering it was to the man who similarly looked after me for the same period.
At least my off switch still functions to an extent.
Is it depressing that I've started to think of my own now?
I wish...I'd had more time. I wish I'd done more. I wish...so much. Sometimes I think there are things that I'd love to have changed in my life, but then I wonder how it would change me as a person.
I could become someone I hate...or have I already started down that path?
I can't...seem to even scrape the surface of what I feel has started the mental turmoil. Hell, I don't even know what that thing is. I give up.
Maybe next time
--Sab
Sometimes...
I don't understand myself. Its not uncommon for words to jumble in my head, but usually I can put pen to paper and transfer something to reflect upon later. These past few weeks...I struggled. I've opened a page with the intention of doing what I've done so many times before, but drawn a blank. My outlet seems no longer open to me...but I'm attempting now.
I feel that the music no longer sings. Its a jarring contemporary piece in perfect counterpoint. The less sense they make, the louder they become until they crescendo to a grandioso of garrulous clutter, before falling into a deafening void of silence. There they'll stay, until it is time to return to the beginning. Its a ternary piece, played over...and over...practising until perfection. Until a conductor can make itself known, and direct each person to perform when they should. Where they should.
That conductor is not me.
I had to sing at someone's funeral the other day. An endeavour I promised myself I'd never do again after the first time...yet I did. How can one say no to the woman who looked after me for most of the first 10 years of my life? Considering it was to the man who similarly looked after me for the same period.
At least my off switch still functions to an extent.
Is it depressing that I've started to think of my own now?
I wish...I'd had more time. I wish I'd done more. I wish...so much. Sometimes I think there are things that I'd love to have changed in my life, but then I wonder how it would change me as a person.
I could become someone I hate...or have I already started down that path?
I can't...seem to even scrape the surface of what I feel has started the mental turmoil. Hell, I don't even know what that thing is. I give up.
Maybe next time
--Sab