mal’s Weblog

{June 10, 2009}  

I must sing. I must sing or else i’d die. The relationship between myself and the voice that needs to be heard and recognized runs deeper than family ties, thicker than blood, and stronger than power itself.

It has to be better than even sex when music evolves right within you as you listen to it, making you smile with a tear in your eye, and goosebumps ripping at your skin…your mind curving in a dance in the moonlight and water it imagines…

I admit: jealousy, plain outright jealousy burns me up and i cant think straight when i see people my age making the news already with petty stuff!!


[…] I know that I used to hide things from my parents because I was afraid of what they would think and say, how they would react. But I realized that in the long term, they will find out somehow or the other, via some odd person or the other, and then that would hurt their aging selves to realize that they did not know their own child as well as they thought they did or as well as they imagined, during their early adulthood, they would. So I started opening up to my parents. I started confiding in my mother that I wanted, say, to pursue music, acting, sports and so on (;;, and not, for instance, a university degree (heck, it did not even make sense to me). I started showing her that I would feel more of a success if I brought home a trophy and a bunch of certificates that said I had led the winning Relay Race / Baseball / Throwball team. […]

what say you?

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