In Love Like An Idiot
Have you ever loved something so much? That your heart feel like it’s going to burst?
I have.
No it’s not a person. It’s probably never going to be a person. There is no greater love that I can offer another human being. I’d feel that I am cheating them.
I love music.
I love it so much. It make my heart flutter and it make my heart hurt at the same time. When I hear it, sitting there in that vast auditorium as my other friends fall asleep next to me, I want to cry. I want to be there. I want to play it! I want people to clap for me. Say that I was an inspiration to you. Tell me that I made a difference.
I am in no shape or form good enough to be a concert pianist.
But I love it so much.
Is it an unrequited love that I’m feeling? How can something that is taken for granted by so many people everyday be so magical? It is sick.
I’m madly, deeply in love with it.
God forbid I ever fall this badly to a real person. I don’t think the world can handle something like this projected to a real person. When I hit that E key, I feel like it’s my first kiss. When I hit my staccatos, it’s all of those gushy Valentine’s Day romance in one. Octaves, flats, sharps, runs, pianissimo, forte.
Can anyone out there understand me?
Sometime I feel like the biggest idiot in the room. Because all of my friends can go along with their daily lives, and I will literally be the only idiot in the room crying because of a certain PIECE OF MUSIC. It’s not even a song. It will literally be Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto Number 2 playing, and you will see me, on the floor crying like an idiot.
I don’t like it when people close their eyes at concerts. I don’t know why. It’s just something I personally do not like. Music shouldn’t be soothing. Its weird saying some of those pieces is SOOTHING. They’re not. They wash over you like a tidal wave, knocking you down in its path.
College is coming in around eighteen week. I don’t know what I’ll do.
I want to be with the thing that I love. But it’s not to be. I’m not good enough to go professional with my music.
Choices are to be made after all. Maybe in due time I will be able to make mine.
I have.
No it’s not a person. It’s probably never going to be a person. There is no greater love that I can offer another human being. I’d feel that I am cheating them.
I love music.
I love it so much. It make my heart flutter and it make my heart hurt at the same time. When I hear it, sitting there in that vast auditorium as my other friends fall asleep next to me, I want to cry. I want to be there. I want to play it! I want people to clap for me. Say that I was an inspiration to you. Tell me that I made a difference.
I am in no shape or form good enough to be a concert pianist.
But I love it so much.
Is it an unrequited love that I’m feeling? How can something that is taken for granted by so many people everyday be so magical? It is sick.
I’m madly, deeply in love with it.
God forbid I ever fall this badly to a real person. I don’t think the world can handle something like this projected to a real person. When I hit that E key, I feel like it’s my first kiss. When I hit my staccatos, it’s all of those gushy Valentine’s Day romance in one. Octaves, flats, sharps, runs, pianissimo, forte.
Can anyone out there understand me?
Sometime I feel like the biggest idiot in the room. Because all of my friends can go along with their daily lives, and I will literally be the only idiot in the room crying because of a certain PIECE OF MUSIC. It’s not even a song. It will literally be Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto Number 2 playing, and you will see me, on the floor crying like an idiot.
I don’t like it when people close their eyes at concerts. I don’t know why. It’s just something I personally do not like. Music shouldn’t be soothing. Its weird saying some of those pieces is SOOTHING. They’re not. They wash over you like a tidal wave, knocking you down in its path.
College is coming in around eighteen week. I don’t know what I’ll do.
I want to be with the thing that I love. But it’s not to be. I’m not good enough to go professional with my music.
Choices are to be made after all. Maybe in due time I will be able to make mine.