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Old 09-06-2015, 09:53 AM
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I’m watching a video of a girl playing the piano, and it is a beautiful melody. For the first time in a long time I am excited and looking forward to playing this beautiful song myself on the piano. I have felt this way many times before, but they come slow, music like that is hard to find, or maybe I just don't look hard enough. I have touched the keys many times, but I still anticipate, because it’s a new song every time. I get excited because it’s a new feeling every time, because I am playing it on a new day. But at the same time I want to cry because I am sad, because with the beauty it reminds me of the pain that has to come with it. I want to cry, because I didn't write that, angry because there is so much inside me that needs to be composed into a song, but that I've never written one on the piano. Yet I don’t cry even though I am about to, because I know I will be coaxed into feeling like everything’s worthy again, before I want to cry again, and again, and again, a thousand more times. And I would feel happy again, for two and a half minutes, before they take it away from me again, because it’s wrong to feel too happy.

I’m watching the video for the fifth time, and even though the music is still beautiful, I feel even sadder and angrier, because the first time is gone.

And you don’t even know I’m playing this song.

That it’s for you. That my passion for you is like my passion for the piano. That sometimes, its music that is new is captivating, addicting and at first, novel. And that sometimes, when it doesn’t play along or respond loudly or clearly enough, it is fucking cruel. And I don’t come near you, because you’re so fucking silent.

Yet I can’t blame you.

Because I am the player, the musician, the artist.
Because I want, and need and am a narcissist.
Because I am visceral, emotional…primal…
Because, Good God, I am human.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4JyzRTo-8MI

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Last edited by LeWriter; 09-06-2015 at 10:05 AM..
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Old 09-06-2015, 01:27 PM
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Um, is that location in the upper right of the page accurate?


"If I'm going to hell, I'm going there playing a piano"
Jerry Lee Lewis


He once, at a concert, poured gasoline and coca cola from a coke bottle onto his piano. Dropped a match on it and played it as it burned.


Just wanted to pass that on since you were elsewhere in 1958 and may not have heard of the event.
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Old 09-07-2015, 01:47 AM
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My mother plays the piano, plays it so beautifully and intensely while making it look so easy...

She's a devout Christian woman, raised by a strict, unforgiving woman who I couldn't stand until the later years in her life.

I seldom saw her 'let go' until, one day coming home from school I heard Elton John rocking on the piano.

Except it wasn't Elton John. It was Mom, pounding on those keys like her life depended on it, beating out those chords like ol' Reginald never dreamed of.

When she realized I was standing there she stopped abruptly, bustled into the kitchen and the incident was never spoken of.

But God, if I could hear her play again like that.
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Old 09-07-2015, 03:09 AM
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Originally Posted by Nick Pierce View Post
Um, is that location in the upper right of the page accurate?


"If I'm going to hell, I'm going there playing a piano"
Jerry Lee Lewis


He once, at a concert, poured gasoline and coca cola from a coke bottle onto his piano. Dropped a match on it and played it as it burned.


Just wanted to pass that on since you were elsewhere in 1958 and may not have heard of the event.
In 1958 I was living the life of Hemingway. God gave me three decades of bliss before throwing me down here again, this time disguised as an 'innocent little chinese girl'. In 1996 my present self was still a tsunami of embryo, apprehensively anticipating life. So no, I probably wouldn't have known about dear ol' lewis back then.

But thanks for mentioning it, I just looked it up. It is really interesting. I'm only wondering how he managed to do that without losing some digits.
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Old 09-07-2015, 03:15 AM
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Originally Posted by Prodigalson View Post
My mother plays the piano, plays it so beautifully and intensely while making it look so easy...

She's a devout Christian woman, raised by a strict, unforgiving woman who I couldn't stand until the later years in her life.

I seldom saw her 'let go' until, one day coming home from school I heard Elton John rocking on the piano.

Except it wasn't Elton John. It was Mom, pounding on those keys like her life depended on it, beating out those chords like ol' Reginald never dreamed of.

When she realized I was standing there she stopped abruptly, bustled into the kitchen and the incident was never spoken of.

But God, if I could hear her play again like that.
Funny you should mention your mom. I just only had a flippin blown out row with mine over soup bowls. It ended up with both of us crying and me breaking a three hundred dollars air purifier, which made me cry even harder. I only flipped the printer in my room, raging, and before my eyes unleashed the domino effect as the printer had knocked the tv over which knocked the stereo over which knocked a vase over which crashed into smithereens right beside the ps3.

I wish I could say it was worth the rage, but really I wanted to jump out the fucking window. And trust me when I say, especially during moments like this, death cannot come sooner.
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Last edited by LeWriter; 09-07-2015 at 03:19 AM..
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Old 09-07-2015, 03:21 AM
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I won't mention my mom again.

And believe me, Kim, death does come sooner than we wish.

We just don't know it 'til the end.
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Mr. Ed said I should use his signature, since he's not anymore. In honor of his good friend Nok, here it is: "As far as smoking a cigar," she said, "I'd not know where to start or how to start." "It's simple," said I, "You light one end and chew on the other and hope to meet in the middle."
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Old 09-07-2015, 03:43 AM
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I enjoyed what you said about your mom, you've taken it the wrong way. What you had shared, which I have earlier neglected to point out, was particularly heart warming and a reminder of the fact that mother or not, we all are our own individuals with our own secrets and passions. By all means, mention her anytime. I was just venting and trying to relieve myself of some steam.

I do believe you, which is what makes it all even more frustrating. Knowing and not being able to do anything but accept.

Life is a whole confusing muck.
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  #8  
Old 09-07-2015, 03:52 AM
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[QUOTE=LeWriter

I'm only wondering how he managed to do that without losing some digits.

[/QUOTE]


God may love his saints but I have noticed he really tends to protect his madmen (mad women, also).


Explains why a lot of us are still here despite are repeated efforts to effect egress, huh?
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Old 09-17-2015, 03:24 PM
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le,
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Old 09-22-2015, 02:31 PM
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I never associated the piano with beauty. The piano style I relate to is that of Jerry Lee Lewis and Little Richard.
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