Language has been one of the greatest issue as a matter of fact. It’s been traumatizing to be adapting to a completely foreign language at a MA level – that is with all classes in a foreign tongue that you’ve just learnt 6 months ago. Beat that, German. It really doesn’t help when you find yourself stuck with 3 other languages that you are obliged to know. My brain works at this level that processes all that information, but in the very end, it is completely exhausted. 1 year MA? Joke. How do you do a Masters in one year with 4 languages to learn?  I have 2. Thankfully.

Recently, my body hasn’t been reacting very well to the change in climatic conditions and the stress level it has to absorb. The current status is – “breaking down in process”. Yes, not entirely optimistic like the Optimistic Iris.  I’m not certain if I am actually sure that that is the actual status.

I sometimes wonder if my Optimism has a limit, and yes. I think it does. Not sure if it is running out of power and needs to be charged or is the source of power weakening already. Perhaps, I should very well try to reason with myself. Thinking is indeed a good way of keeping quiet and does help with self -reflection.

Silence is golden – especially when people look down at you just because of your age. That sought of equates to young + intelligent = impossible. People don’t listen. You don’t even need to finish your statement before you are cut off. They think they can read you like a book, but in reality, they don’t even know your favourites.

It’s been quite awhile since I last felt completely exhausted. I am human enough to wish for comfort, warmth and rest. Tiredness is like more dangerous than it appears to be, but is definitely  a condition easily treated without the use of medication.

At this point, I would write more. Not brainlessly ranting away, but finding some meaning from ranting. Perhaps, ranting isn’t such a bad thing after all. The blogging program is therapeutical indeed. Therapeutical for those who rather remain silent in reality and only dare to express in this form.

I think so. Always so worried to upset them. When you in fact do it so much times you don’t even seem to know- Sadly. Sometimes, I rather loose than to just argue to prove my point. Face? Nah, I quit being Asian enough to care about it when it concerns the family.

Nose in the air? Nah, I really think growing up in an environment with so much rules might just cancel that all out together. What’s air when you think you are so imperfect? Perhaps, I should even stop talking.

Hell with all the rules sometimes. My side to be blame, but I can’t help to say that it is nevertheless in build.

I wish I could simply say those who hurt me are simply selfish, but I would rather just say that it’s really just my fault. It would make it 10 times easier that way.

Cry? Yah, it is simply the best solutions at times – perhaps, always. I still think it is.

Happy? Not now.

Unhappy? Literally upset to the max.

Angry? Not a tiny bit.

Disappointed? Is there a word for sheer disappointment? Perhaps not.

Time? 1:21 am

Still staying up? Yeah, I was woken up when I nearly , so nearly fell asleep.

Tired? Quite, but I can’t sleep?

Actual fact? I am talking to myself.

Why? I don’t know really. I wish though.

Not going to do anything? Nothing.

Sheer upset. Need space. Argh.

No one to talk to except myself. Iris= pathetic.

If we put music aside from Modernism. Tomorrow’s new invention, or even the launch of a new cellphone is modernity – A trend breaker. So why then do we use the word modern as though we are not modern enough so much as to add “Post” in front of “Modern”. If that is the case, in a few years time, scholars will be debating over what Post post modernism is ( which is already happening). Why can’t scholars find another name to describe today’s music and perhaps because of the wide array of genres we can find, maybe sought it out in different sub genres. Why not leaving it as the music of the 21st Century and in it we could find all its subs.

Why can’t we do away with the entire post modernism idea ?

Classic romance novel – one that I shed a tear for a completely different reason.

What if, I find myself writing one? Will I shed a tear like I do when I read a classic romance novel or will I shed a tear because I can’t even start?

What if, I wrote because I wanted to be true to promise? Can I start? Can I release sanctions I imposed on my brain and let myself be free again?

If one could choose to live life like a stack of paper, would you? I would. I would be tempted.

Life however, is not life without mistakes. In imperfection we learn perfection, therefore, perfection doesn’t exist without imperfection. The worry about making mistakes then? Should not actually be a fear, but a guideline of life  - a fundament of being humane.

The irony is, at times, life does feel like a stack of papers. Circumstances decides when to discard; when to start afresh;when to stay still and when to be frantically drawing. At present, this is life for me. Somehow, I can’t seem to control it the way I use to.

It is now another beginning. Something I did not expect  or rather was trying to run away from. Nevertheless, life has begun from scratch. All over again…

… and I begin to wonder what the week will be like – human nature in action – to ponder over what lies ahead. Often, I would be reminded that time does not wait. It ticks away quite unassumingly.

I have  lost count of how long I have been here (the possibility of forgetting is low, I am just procrastinating.). It hasn’t been very long I would say, but long enough for me to see drastic changes in season. Perhaps, living in South East Asia for a very long time has made me a “frog in a well”.  The seasonal change has been an eye opener. Something I might seriously consider contemplating about.

The beginning of the week was surprisingly comforting. It was only last week where the tree leaves by the Saar river were beautifully golden – absolutely gorgeous – as though they have some form of unity. Today as I walk down the same path, the trees were barren ; the sky was obscured ; the air was misty, a slight drizzle and a little chilly. Sounds depressing? Smell irony? No, it should not seem this way. It was absolutely comforting. A great company in the most depressing weather makes the most depressing weather non- existent. I felt a great sense of serenity  and warmth despite the river that was flowing rather rapidly and the rather chilly weather. Walking by the river has always been a Sunday evening favourite, but it has never been this way before. Loneliness has never been in my dictionary, but I finally understand it today. It has always been in existent, only that I didn’t realize. Perhaps, I felt liberated from loneliness, and through liberation, loneliness came into existent. The beginning of the week was pleasant, probably the most pleasant in all of the Sundays that I have been here.

So much for the evening…. I must prepare for a long week that awaits me.

Gute Nacht

However, Life isn’t that miserable. In the midst of all sought of changes, somehow, someone will be there to face new problems with me. In this case, I found not one but a few Thank God for many countless blessings….

It has been more than a month since my hands held the certificate which qualifies me to be a graduate with honours. Happy? Monotonous I would say.

What’s next? To the Land below Sea Level? Or to the Land of colours? I do not know what really lies ahead. Although I am sure that education does not stop here, for once, I feel oblivious to it. I want to do more, but what?

Otherwise, life is still the same.

They have left. With great hope, I thought school would be exciting in a different way. New staff installed and a great new lot of pianos, recording studios… etc  There was so much to be enthusiastic about.

I was wrong. Today, school has become a place for politics. The staff’s indifferences became our problem. I got marked down for this incredibly awesome story….

I declined him as piano teacher. Today, I still have no regrets doing so. He wasn’t a bad person. I needed someone strict and one who could really help me. In my perspective, he would not have been strict on me then. Maybe, today he will. Perhaps, in a very different way. So, I declined.

Then, in the exam that he examined me, I brought in a score and it states ‘Quasi Improvisational’. His comments for that piece was ” Were you even following the scores? I am sure he knows his work – literally. Biasness or revenge?

Later, he got me to play for master class. Told me it was a contemporary music master class. So I prepared. Two days before the class, he called to tell me to work on Beethoven. Says that the maestro that’s coming is a Beethoven specialist. Beethoven it is…I practiced.

On the day of the Master Class, his student played a contemporary piece… So, what was with Beethoven? (Sorry Mr Beethoven, it is not that I don’t like your works, the schools says we can’t be playing your works! Sorry I had to play it badly during master class. There was not enough time to make it sound good.)

What am i suppose to do?

That person is on my examination panel!

Bias-ness influence subjectiveness. Music being subjective …. nothing is going to help.

Practice.