My home.. reminds me of where I truly stand. The pages I've written with my own hands, even till they ache I wouldn't even stop writing. It was too interesting to carry on writing. It was like watching a movie to me. It was like I could see the characters talking or fighting or do whatever I write. It was like watching the best TV you could get on earth.
The joints of my fingers ache every time I finally stopped writing. Satisfied with the current idea in my mind. But it seems worthless anyway. The pages.. The note books I've filled with my ideas, they're all still locked in a box. Seems like it's just a rotten box which no one will open even to peek at it.
Even if I'm really tired, I would stay up late to enjoy the quietness and write and draw. It really hurts my hand muscles and I couldn't play the piano properly the next day. They shake every time I tried to reach for a note.
Anyway, I didn't like playing the piano a lot. It was because my sister was getting so much attention just because she could play it well. I tried to do as she could. It couldn't be done. It wouldn't work. No one notices a person who plays with broken chords.
I guess now I truly realize why I decided to learn piano.
No one would accept someone who didn't seem to work at anything important that said,
"I'm tired."
Well I've found out I'm that type of person. What the hell. haha... silly me.
As for you.
If you weren't so pushy. I will get it right this time. Please just stop and let me handle my stuff this time. I'll try. But don't push.
'Never try to push a bird that doesn't want to fly down the tree. because you may kill it.'
I finally realize why do I write so much worthless words.
It was just to write to give me a reason to draw about what I'm writing which no one sees or reads.
I promised myself not to cry for nothing anymore. But the tears just flow out as they pleased. Every time i tried to think why did I cry again.
Ridiculously...
I couldn't remember.
I promised.
I was crying uncontrollably the last time I was at the music centre.
Anyway my teacher was in a bad mood.
She was shouting at me like I'm a dog or something. As usual.
I tried to think really hard why was I crying. But the harder I think, the more I cried and I still couldn't get why was I crying so badly.
Was it because, I will miss her?
was it because, I will miss the piano?
was it because, I was disappointed with myself that I gave up?
was it because, I failed to get what I wanted?
was it because, ...
I hope she won't be angry......
.......
She wouldn't... She might be just as happy to lose a student like me.
She always told me how far back I was from her other students anyway..
I wouldn't gave up no matter what when I was small.
Because it seems I will disappoint many others around me.
But now that I realize. Even if I was the one suffering. No one encouraged.
Even though I know they will be disappointed, I guessed no one ever stood on my side thinking how would I feel.
I wish... I could just...
Shout this out loud...
"I'M NO LOSER! I FIGHT TO LIVE! AND LIVE IS WHAT I PLAN TO! GOD DAMN IT!"
'You can tell she's not happy with her life.'
'Is she building this unhappy life of herself?'
'Why would she? Is this torture?'
JW
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