World so cold

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

I feel cold,absolutely frozen.Fuck my brain cells,they've been dysfunctional practically since I've taken my well being in my hand,which I might as well add some time back.It could be long enough but I've surely had it this time. I have lost the count of times when I've passed this page with an urge to pour words but sincerely passed on. I don't even know what is inspiring me to write,perhaps incubus; maybe muddy waters. Does that quite affect the well being of this state,I don't agree to it perhaps.Another thing that I quite don't want to admit is my state of mind for the past two months.I've noticed (and now believe) that something is terribly wrong with me,and I saw it today,the proof.

To begin with, I feel artistically challenged. I admit I am not even in a state to come and claim that title,but well of all the odd things I've done and little recognition I've acclaimed it seems I am back to doing nothing. They might just be my standards but you can never say enough. On one level I can put my bass playing to blame. Either I am expecting too much or it's just that I am not meant for it. I am contemplating whether I can ever do justice to it. Every time I watch someone play, I am delusional.This has not only hit my playing and focus but also all other things that I could do with efficiency,blogging inclusive. Agreed, I was not some hot-shot student writer but now I am at a stage where I cringe when hold pen. I get words,ideas pour but they refuse to scatter on paper. Can also blame the course I did,but it really didn't delve into writing bit.Also one thing leads to another. It's hitting me again,I am not meant for english or any language for that matter,which I genuinely believe will vanish once I am stuck in a course for the three years and complaining. Worse part is,I could put everything on school,now I don't even have the liberty to do that.What had to be done,is over but the thought of next three years,fuck even three weeks leave me with jelly like legs. I've come to such situation where I've hurted myself,and I do that a lot when I am in a state of panic (which is quite often,I am afraid). My fingers scream and keeping up with this they refuse to show anything on bass. My bass too malfunctioned twice at home when I was playing. Now to come down,I have music try-outs in college,to make it through. Even without them I can make it but it'd be like living on the edge and I can't. I am dead boring and the commuting has got me ugly face. I confess, I am in oblivious throughout.Past one month I've met and missed lot of people. Each time I am trying to put something,bass playing or paper..it doesn't come out. I can imagine and might even hide my incapability by claiming it's wrong to expect out of my playing but can't fuck around with my writing. With every minute that is drawing closer to 18,(date, you imbecile) I feel helpless. I am prepared for the worst,but my mind isn't apparently. I am suppose to write,I can't think. I am suppose to play,I loose focus. I am suppose to answer, I forget. It all happened today in one day.

Very deep paper,meant for me. Nothing in the paper that I can whine about. The things didn't come out. Any ordinary day you ask my take on topic that we were suppose to feature today and I could launch into a politically correct speech,but nothing came out today. Whatever I've put is not my trademark style. Just random topics,from here and there in a very loose package. Towards the end you could see that it's done for the sake of doing it. This is with writing,now I am suppose to give my first public bass performance. Hypothetically my future (at least these 3 years) depends totally on 2 solo's.But in this kind of frenzy and delusional paranoic state,where I am good-fucking-god age 8 not 18. There is no such thing called as confidence when I play. It's mechanical,and this in front of public. I am in two minds about doing it,and can't avoid doing it. I've really injured my hands,and it doesn't show. Pricks included that I can't follow timing. It's been fucking the happiness out of life-the metronome. It frustrates me like nothingness of religion,and disappoints me every time.

On certain level my bass playing has striking similarity to mathematics.Don't take me wrong,it's the most disgusting thing I am doing but yet I can't help. I struggle down with metronome, it reminds me of mathematics. This is the kind of impact trigonometry left on my mind. Perfection-I am slave for it and more than every time when I can't I am in this state.I gave in and I don't want my bass playing to go same way. Not even close,but it's happening in all my bass lessons. My bass solo is not coming out the way I want,it's not even close enough. There are really slim chances of putting my tryouts in place,at least for music, I can guarantee. I can't make it through even if I am the only person in there. There are going to be several musicians and I can't even categorise myself there. It's my fault and I accept it. The little I've gained in these three months will go in vain if I don't show myself and I know it won't. It takes me time,a lot of time to put sheet music together and play it.I get distracted when I play along with track,and with all due respect my teacher's got all right to be mad on me for the purpose. I know I am not even putting half my effort what I can. But it's just not working out,neither in terms of writing nor bass,which leads me to my next question.

If this is what I wanted to do so badly,why can't I do it? I can't write,yes I can't.
Words don't come out,I've said that countless times and people think she's got to be kidding.I am not proud of what I've written in past. I've never quiet appreciated what I wrote ever,but I had the confidence to do that. My confidence to do anything well is dead. That's killing me. Blame it on my potentially well score for english,but I am still under shock. I know the course, I'll get into something that comes,and it won't be language. Within the first three months I would know that I've done it wrong and I would complain about ruining my future. I am sure this will happen. It happened in 11 grade as well. Whenever I am one step close to language I seem to make a wrong move and it's gone. I am also the last person on earth to advocate 9-5 desk job but I know I will land up in one,maybe some years from now. Every second makes me feel weak and it's all destroying whatever I built in pieces. I don't want to loose it,my throat feels heavy.Lump passes down.Its a cue for me to have some cough drops and fuck my brain for tomorrow's entrance.

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2 comments

  1. Are you reading danielle steel?we haven't spoken for days...wonder what's causing all this paranoia.........




    Oh! I get it,your "teacher' is upset about you..i know,love hurts

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  2. hi snobz.it took me a long time to read the post and grasp everythig (just too many thoughts coupled with MY dumbness, plz don't blame your writing!)
    and why do you think u don't write well? if what u've churned out in the past few mothns is NOT good english, what is??
    u sound soo pessimistic! happens with me all the time. when i feel i can't do one right correct, i think everything will turn out all wrong, and almost always my predictions are true. but a fortnight of frustration later, SOMEthing turns out right, and everything propmtly falls into place. then i realize it was only the boost of confidence that i lacked all along...maybe it is the same for u too? :)

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