What are you willing to risk?

Last night, I got caught up again with the never ending conflict of me building my dreams versus me doing responsibilities for my family (doing work). In my heart, I know that part of me screws up my work because I don’t want to do that anymore. But I can’t stop. If I do, then where will I get money to pay bills? My dream is still in progress. I don’t know exactly what I wanted to do but most probably it is related to music. Song writing, performing, I guess. Main conflict would be I can’t earn money right away if I just perform my compositions. That takes hell a lot of time just to sell myself out to the music industry.

The question hit me. I have no answer yet. But I was wondering if I ask the you the same thing, what would your answer be?

What are you willing to risk in order for your dreams to come true?

Is it your job? Is it time? Is it your relationships around you? Is it the money? Is it your health that you are willing to sacrifice?

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Between The Lines

My mom and sister had a fight (almost) earlier. Long story. But I gotta say, I’m just really tired being the bridge of this family. It’s like I need to fix everything. It’s not that I don’t want to help but they are grown ups. They can fix their fights all on their own. Mom rants to me. Sister rants to me. Repeat 100x. And it’s not always them. Sometimes it’s my dad and mom. Sometimes my sister and my dad. Ugh. I love them. I don’t want them fighting. I don’t want them misinterprenting everything they say or do to each other. It ruins the relationship. I don’t want that. Can I ever get out of it? I have my own life too.

I know we don’t need to always read between lines but sometimes we need to. People may not always mean what they say. They struggle for words too. Sometimes they say things according to what they feel at the moment but feelings are temporary. Happiness won’t last forever and so as anger. We also can not always rely for bridges/messengers to fix things for us. They have their own lives to live. We can not always depend on other people to fix relationships. We need to communicate on our own to the people we had conflict with and we need to be open. We can never be right all the time and we can never be wrong all the time. It’s not always what you think that matters. There are always other sides to consider.

Attack?

Here it is again. It’s like an attack but it doesn’t hurt me. I don’t know exactly how it feels but it’s pushing me towards it and something tells me that I would love to stay there. There. That place without obligations, only to self – to be happy.

Am I missing something? It’s just that I know that what I’m doing is right. And I know I must do what I do –not what I want most –but obligations to family. Somebody needs to take care of them. I’m not saying this like I don’t have a choice. I love them and I’ll do everything for them. If they need me, I wouldn’t think twice to be there for them.

I’m handling our music school now. I’ve accepted to handle a dozen classes and students for home services in different places… Yes, I kinda think I am superwoman and it would be a miracle to accomodate all of them but I need to. I want to. I don’t no one could ever stop me because all I wanted for my family is to be stable financially and not worry if we can eat next week. It’s just that I’m done relying to my parents because I was frustrated more than I can think of. Long story.

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t hate my job but it’s not what I want most. I’m not actually sure about what I want most. I haven’t given time for my dreams yet. I don’t even know what my dreams are yet. It was always for them. I dream for them and I am not used to thinking about me.

I like music. I like playing and singing. I like writing songs. I think I am good at it — not sure yet. Ugh. I’m not sure. It’s always like that and I can’t be sure until I give it time to discover, learn, be better at it and share it to people. I think I know what I want but I’m just not sure yet.

This thought takes my mind off my work. I am supposed to write arrangements and pieces for my students (I had a week to do that!) but I  crammed. You know what I did? I wrote songs and place every effort to finish it. In one week, I made 3 songs. Mmm.

Selfish thought: I wish I can just skip until I get to the part where all I do is make music and perform my heart out to people. But I know I couldn’t and I wouldn’t anyway cause that would be cheating and I don’t want to cheat on life. I wouldn’t feel what I need to feel. I wouldn’t think what I need to think. learn what I need to learn. I wouldn’t realize what I need to realize. I wouldn’t grow like how I am supposed to grow.

Curious of what I sound like? Here: Listen to me on SoundCloud! 🙂

The Silly Thinking Of Me

I suddenly have this urge to play the guitar again. I missed it. After 2 or 3 years of running away from it, I miss it and I miss it so bad. It’s like a drug that I haven’t gotten in a while and it’s right here in front of me. It’s just the feels – more like I am longing for it and I want to be one with it.

I was so afraid. I played the classical guitar when I was at the conservatory. I fell in love with it – so with the people around it. Life there was practice, practice, practice then perform… repeat all throughout the school year. But things changed and it suddenly became a bad memory.

I have this fear that I brought everywhere I go. I can’t even get my guitar out of my case, more so playing it. Cause when I do, flashbacks hit me like nuclear canons, bombs, guns, knives that strike directly to my heart… and I feel the pain all over again. It sounds so melodramatic. Well, don’t judge because it hit me big time.

Through my escape, I tried lots of different stuff. But to tell frankly, I can getaway far enough from music. So first, I composed (bad memories can be a great source for original compositions). Second, I found myself composing and singing with a band – which I didn’t have for a long time. Third, I indulged myself and tried ukulele but don’t get me wrong, I met a lot of great people in an awesome community but sometimes I look for something deeper. Lastly, I tried going back to theater. It did brought me joyous moments and gave me a fresh start – awesome new found friends and mentors. In between those steps, I keep handling and teaching our music school. Yes, that’s the moving on me.

But lately, I find myself longing for it. Playing and practicing for hours, days and restless nights. My fingers long for the numbness and hardness of the callouses on my left hand. On my rifght, the long finger nails that is carefully shapes by a sand paper. I miss the addictive way of analyzing pieces and overthinking how it should be played. I miss criticizing every tone I make.

I miss it so bad but I think I still can’t go back. It’s weird that what I do now is play and play the guitar. I keep on arranging songs and make it an instrumental – close enough that I can get to classical music.

Will I ever go back? Can I ever handle going back? Because once I do, I think I am risking myself to be screwed all over again and my heart says enough and my heart wants more of it. Half of a half? A quarter of a half? I don’t know who wins the battle against this silly thinking of me.