On a lighter note, it’s not going to rain any more this week. Isn’t it awesome! Today and tomorrow it will go up to 10 degrees celcius, and then later this week – like on Sunday – up to 17. Is this really happening? Wow.
And I am on the waitlist for Verbier Academy. Is this really possible? I mean for real?! I am second on the list, and I can’t conceive the thought of anybody cancelling once accepted, so there is really no chance that I will get to go there – but I really didn’t think I would even get on the waitlist. I thought they’d like, laugh at my application or something, what with my old demo CD used for college app two and a half years ago and my cheesy letter and all that stuff. But I guess it worked much better than I thought. Man, I am happy. Of course, not knowing where I will be going this summer is depressing, but I guess I’ll just suck it up. But I have been so lucky lately – as much as I have been depressed, anxious and worried. Sometimes I feel as though I really didn’t deserve this life that I am allowed to live. I feel like I am not really working hard for anything but still being granted so much. I felt this way all through my childhood, and well into my teenage years, which is why I so badly wanted to move to another country – I really wanted a challenge I had to overcome, some kind of gigantic hurdle I had to get over with real, true, earnest hard work. And in that aspect, even though it might have been the most painful and depressing time of my life, the first couple of years in Canada are for me the only time in my life of which I feel any sense of “ownership” and pride, something I can proudly claim to be the result of my very own hard work. I had always felt like a spoiled brat to whom everything was automatically given, even happiness, and I felt that I really did not deserve that. Longing for pathos.
But ever since then, I have again felt as though I were being really ungrateful and lazy, never living to 100%. I never really slacked off, I guess, but then I always used music as an excuse to remain in a comfort zone for everything else.. and swimming in self-induced depression. Depression is really a luxury – and an addictive one at that. I guess I did work pretty hard for my college auditions, but that was because going into a good school was really a matter of life and death and I was more threatened than motivated throughout the whole ordeal. And now, ever since coming to college, ah, faced with oh so much confusion and dilemmas, whither have I come? I am in a marshland of ungrateful dismissiveness, self-deception, self-pitying sadness and yes, that luxurious depression. Questioning the meaning of life – yes, but why? It only tells me such questions of existential curiosity only arise when one has so much time on one’s hands and is so self-absorbed to wrap oneself up in this little cocoon of philosophical questions. The reason for all this is, though, that one does not feel that one is loved. The present absence of love, or the lack of experiences of love (no, not the romantic kind, please, I am trying to be serious here) in general, whatever it may be, and so, one does not know how one’s life can mean anything to anybody else but oneself, and vice versa. And that is the sad, pitiful case for the many unloved of this “individualist,” comfort/convenience-priority, digitized and anonymous society.
If it weren’t for music, I really would be a spoiled brat who would never know the meaning of earning your own life with hard work. I am real glad I am a musician. But this isn’t enough, because it is so easy to slip on this road and once fallen, it is so easy to let myself dragged down into the marshland.. So I need love. ÇÒ¸Ó´Ï, »ç¶ûÇØ¿ä. (Grandma, I love you.)
Oh man. If I don’t go and study for my German test RIGHT NOW, I am not going to be able to warm up before my lesson. I am nuts. People, I am so nuts.
(er, ironically, none of you seems so surprised.. :P)