Thursday, December 29, 2011

And It’s Making My Heart Cry…

We remember and we forget. It is human nature to keep things in their memories and let some of them slip away. Hence, we miss certain stuff that gets stuck on the littlest corners of our mind that had great impact on our lives in some ways.

Satisfying that missing feeling towards a person is, for lack of a better term, easier as compared to missing a memory. Many would have to disagree on this but (besides the fact that this is my blog and I can pretty much say my own opinion here) I believe this is a general possibility. Here are a few things for you to contemplate on and for me to prove my theory.

We all are capable of divine human interaction. Okay, so divine was not really necessary but I think it is more conspicuous if I wrote it that way. People have the capability to find ways in meeting up with friends long gone and moved on, family based in a random continent, or even pets lost in translation (at least in movies, these are a hundred percent true).

When it comes to memories or all other abstract things, we tend to satisfy that missing through simply reminiscing those times you have access on them. People nowadays have lots and lots to work on. We are living mostly to work for a living. So, there are some who spend most of their time working and the rest of their day remembering how they can do certain things before, the way they wanted to whenever they want.
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I hope by now you realize that my post is not about all those stuff I just mentioned. It is probably a bit connected, but just a bit.

I miss a lot of things – like writing, family members abroad, charcoal drawing, school friends, [bad] dancing, old pets, and eating a perfect spinach ravioli – but what I miss the most among all other things is singing. I will admit I lost the ‘touch’ or whatever it’s called in singing well. But I always keep on wondering, dreaming even, whether I would have the chance to get a big break or work in the music industry some time in my life.

I grew up in a not-so-musically-inclined family. My dad plays the guitar, he taught my sister how to, my mom sang since she was in elementary (I think), my sister dances, I play the recorder, I’m a frustrated pianist, and yes I sang too since I was a kid. I had been singing since I can remember. I had been part of a school choir. I got trophies from singing contests, solo and duet categories. I pretty much sang my life through, well at least until I started college.

People may have noticed that I really like (love actually) watching musicals and concerts and gigs. I enjoy the simplest band performance, and I really love singing along with them or jamming with friends. I really like Glee too, because it reminds me of those days when I can sing in school (as in singing at school activities and such).

I stopped singing at a certain point of my life because of practical reasons. I thought my passion for the arts had nothing, in any way, to help me make a living – at least that was what the world taught me. Your passion can make you happy and help you express yourself, but it can never really get you the things the world demands from [and/or for] you.

My friends probably notice that when I get sulky I tend to bring out my iPod and listen to music. It keeps me sane, really. If I may quote one of my tweets, ‘music is my personal drug.’ Music helps me not to be frustrated with the life I chose for myself. It keeps me from thinking that passion has no room in this world if you want to live the better life. It stops all of my frustrations from bursting from inside of me and killing every practical choice I made.

I love singing and I will never stop doing so. Even though I ceased all possibilities for me to become a singer someday, at least I still have my shower head that never gets tired of listening to my once so amazing voice.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

If My Feet Had Wings…

If my feet had wings it would be easy to free myself from a great crowd. I might not have claustrophobia because it will be easy to escape the clutches of fear from tiny spaces. Even though I’m stuck in the middle of a crowd on a pedestrian lane, I could jump high enough to free me from that black hole seemingly swallowing all of my energy to stand on two feet.

If my feet had wings I could have been an athlete. I might have become the captain of the track team. Or maybe even become a good volleyball or basketball player. The high jump would be a piece of cake. Even gymnastics would be a breeze because it would be easy for my feet to lift my body.

If my feet had wings I might have a future as a dancer. With feet as light as feathers, dancing would be child’s play. Ballet, techno, hip hop, you name it! With winged feet, learning to dance wouldn’t be much of a chore.

If my feet had wings traffic jam won’t be much of a problem anymore. No need to wait in line to get a bus ride. No need to wait for a cab under the heat of the sun. Walking would be an option rather than the primary manner of locomotion. Climbing anything, from stairs to trees to buildings to skyscrapers, would be hassle-free and stress-free. Travelling wouldn’t be much of a stress to me anymore.

If my feet had wings I would probably be a son of Hermes. I would have the privilege to visit Olympus and party with the gods. I would be a demigod, half immortal. I would have powers unknown to many, probably feared by some. But I would be able to help out many people with these powers. Just like the famous quote from Spiderman, “great power comes with great responsibility,” therefore I should use that power to fulfill the responsibility that comes along with it. If only my feet had wings…

And now, although my feet don’t have wings, I am grateful that my mind has. If not for these invisible wings of my mind, I wouldn’t have reached many a places in this world and even the worlds unknown. I could bear to wait in long lines to travel, or feel extreme fear when stuck in a crowd, but I wouldn’t be able to stand hours of not having a wonderful and wide imagination. It keeps me sane when too much of the real world has gotten into me, lets me fly and escape the clutches of evil, and yet it makes living in the real world worthwhile.

But I still won’t let go of dreaming to grow wings on my feet.