Poker face

There was a time I told you,
             of all that ached inside,
             the things I held so sacred,
             to the whole I'd hide.

But they became your weapons,
            and slowly I have learnt,
            and less that is said the better,
            and lesser I'll be hurt.

Of all you've used against me,
            the worse has been my words.

There are things I'll never tell you,
            and it is sad to think it so,
            the more you come to know me -
            the lesser you will know.

- Lang Leav

Loneliness

I meant to write about it
..but this blank white space was all I felt

I'm sorry

I read our archives, and maybe I was really in the wrong. Maybe I asked too much from you, maybe I was too much. Maybe your concern was too overwhelming, maybe I didn't know what you wanted. Maybe you just cared, maybe it was just your way of showing your affection. Maybe you just did, love me, just not the way I wanted.

But it's a shame that I wouldn't ever know whether I was ever missed (or loved).

Maybe I should have given you a chance. Maybe we would have worked out, maybe.. I'm sorry. And maybe, all the "what if" and "could have been" would've been answered..

Just, Maybe.

New kicks

Finally got a new pair of Nike running shoes and I brought them out for a run today -- But I really really prefer my netburners. I guess change is hard but this change is good. Only using things I'm used to isn't good. I need to let go. Move on.

Filter them out

"I wish I could throw off the thoughts which poison my happiness. And yet I take a kind of pleasure in indulging them."

— Frédérick Chopin

Just because

"I don't wear my heart on my sleeve, doesn't mean I don't have feelings."

RED

Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street
Faster than the wind
Passionate as sin, ended so suddenly
Loving him is like trying to change your mind
Once you’re already flying through the free fall
Like the colors in autumn
So bright just before they lose it all

Losing him was blue like I’d never known
Missing him was dark grey all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know somebody you've never met
But loving him was red
Loving him was red

Touching him is like realizing all you ever wanted was right there in front of you
Memorizing him was as easy as knowing all the words to your old favorite song
Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword and realizing there’s no right answer
Regretting him was like wishing you never found out love could be that strong


You never knew I did, too, M.

and it’s hard

it’s hard when strangers know you better
than the friends you’ve had for five years

it’s hard when the sun seems to shine
everywhere you fail to step

and it’s sad

it’s sad that you’ve got this huge bed
and no one willing to lie down in it

it’s so very sad that when you’re at your loneliest
everyone finds that it’s the perfect time to disappear

but it’s okay

it’s okay because your friends may not know you
but those strangers do

it’s okay that the sun shines away from you
because there’s nothing wrong with a little shade

and it’s fine

it’s fine that no one else is in your bed
because you happen to like sleeping in the center

it’s fine that people aren’t around sometimes
because it makes the ones that are
shine brighter than the sun

and i could use a little more light in my life

I wish

I wish I had:

A more relaxed wrist that allows me to play single hand of long music passages beautifully.

More flexible fingers, so that I can play finger trills easily, so my scales will sound better, so my music I play will not sound so stiff.

To be better at sight reading so I can play many many more pieces with ease and not be stuck trying to count the notes with every bar.

For better leg coordination so that I will pedal properly as deemed by the score sheet and not as and when I deem fit so that the music I play will sound "clean".

To be better at theory so it will help me to analyse a piece better, be it enharmonic equivalents, counting of notes, rhythmic sense, etc.

To be a better pianist. I want to play all sorts of beautiful songs, and play them as interpreted by the composers, and not by the score sheets.

Oh yes

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late

bittersweet

maybe it's true bout' what they say 

there are many people whom you encounter in life 

but there's this one you never really got over 

no matter how many other better people you met 

no matter how many people loves you and treats you better 

always in the back of your mind, 

there's always that person that you can't quite completely forget.

OKAY.

But who can remember pain once it's over?

All that remains of it is a shadow.

Not in the mind even, in the flesh.

Pain marks you, but too deep to see.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Confessions

I haven't studied for today's paper. At all. And I also haven't studied for tomorrow's paper too, not even the slightest bit.

School this semester has made me hate school like never before. It's like hate being brought up to another level. I don't even want to see books or anything related because it's just so... (finds word to fit).

I've kept all my lecture notes right from Y1S1 but 2 weeks back right after the RAD paper, I went home and threw all related materials away. This is how much I hate school. And today, right after the SEP paper, I will do the same, and this process will also repeat for Stats and IS.

I just can't wait to get my ass out of school. This is becoming so unbearable. I'm staring at my notes now, trying to start studying but here I am, typing this post out on my phone.

Oh well. All these is going to be over in less than 10 days. I don't want distinctions, I only want to pass.

You can overcome this

Your thoughts are not who you are; they are not reality. You can have all sorts of concepts of water, but they can't quench your thirst. Thoughts are not the truth. If you can recognize that, your thoughts have less power over you; you can let them go.

Okay?

"It’s okay. It’s okay to want someone you can’t have. It’s okay to want something more. It’s okay to cry when you’re hurt, and it’s okay to stay mad at someone who hurt you. Believe it or not, it’s always going to be okay. That’s just how it works. Sometimes things don’t work out how you want them to, and most of the time, it seems like they never will. But eventually, everything is going to iron out some way or another. You just have to believe, keep your faith, and move on."

National day '12

Heaved a big Big BIG sigh of relief when Mr Lee Kuan Yew walked into the parade, alive, but was such a sentimental moment because it suddenly hit me that as the nation progresses, he's growing old too. It saddens me to see him so old.. Long live PM Lee!

What are words

I believe it's almost impossible to define what real music is. If you try to put into words what music is trying to say, then you have words, not music. This is why I play music; I have something I believe in, something I try to communicate, but I can't put into words. So I play; it's my way of expressing what I cannot verbalize.

- Vladimir Ashkenazy

The pedal plays an important part in voicing, too. Most of the young pianists today use the pedal as a crutch. Maybe it's because they've been brought up in the automobile age, but they use the pedal on a piano as an accelerator in a cat. To use their phrase, they just "sit on it". They don't feel right unless the accelerator is constantly depressed. Consequently, you seldom hear a real legato. They playing is so notey that the new pianists cannot play a legato if they take the foot off the piano. They were not trained to play in any other fashion. They use the pedal to cover ip sins they commit because of a void in their technical facility. When the pedal is used, it should be only for shading and for accent. But a pianist should not have to depend on it.

- John Browning

what's wrong?

everything. 


friends. 


school. 


boys. 


family.

oh nothing, i’m fine.

Hello

I am not sad. I am not sad.
I think to myself, over and over.

Making sure that the truth isn't apparent.
Lying to myself to make my lie more convincing to others.

I am not sad. I am not sad.
Lying until it isn't a lie anymore, but the truth.

The only thing worse than being sad is having others know you are sad.

I am NOT sad.

Every morning I wake up thinking the day will be better than the one before, and before.
And every night I go to sleep with the same broken promises on my mind, a heavy heart and a heart broken face smile on my face.

I am not sad. I am not sad.

As the days progresses, I find myself wishing to be someone else, somewhere else.

Someone else, somewhere else.

I am NOT sad.

You know

I realized no one has actually really celebrated my birthday, except for the Netball girls, and which I also think that it's not because they want to, but they need to.

I see feeds on facebooks, and posts on blogs about how their whole class can celebrate their birthday for them, get them presents and stuff, get them a cake, dare the birthday girl/boy to do things in public just because it's their birthday.

I mean, I have not received presents for a long time. Neither have I had outings or what nots on my birthday. The most I'll have a cake from my Netball girls, in which less than half of them will turn up. Because usually the whole team in full force will turn up if it's like peiling's or huan's birthday or whoever's in the team. Just not mine.

Yes i admit, I'm envious. But so what? I'm not important anyway. But who I am to complain or compare anyway? I mean it's not my business anyway right? It's just a birthday, like any other day. Why are you making such a big fuss Apryl?