So I figure the meaning of our existence is a rather heavily debated topic in this day and age. Some people believe that we were placed here randomly, that we’ll just have our time then die and we should just make the most of what time we have. Others believe in some form of afterlife or reincarnation. Some believe in a higher power or god pulling the strings. Continue reading
The long hours of preparation,
The days of anticipation,
That nervous feeling before it all begins.
The fear of rejection,
The want to run away,
That little voice inside saying it’ll be okay.
Perform your piece,
Play your heart and soul,
Fear is worth the chance to reach your goal.
Waiting with bated breath,
While your heart begins to speed,
The elation when they say that it’s your victory.
Today I had the pleasure of being able to watch a performance of traditional Korean drum playing. In the picture you can see the Stin Myuing Drum Team as they play at the International Festival in my town.
It was a very captivating experience, watching them play these drums all in sync and with such skill. It amazes me when I think about all the practice that must have gone into memorizing the sequences and rhythms for both pieces.
This sort of performance was originally meant to bring new vigour to the Korean soldiers during war times, and one can see why with just one listen. It’s a very invigorating experience that I wouldn’t mind witnessing again.
I was reminded today how fascinating different cultures can be, particularly those of East Asia. Although personal experience has made me less inclined to revisit the continent, I would not mind if I had the opportunity to visit Japan, although not alone.
My kitten is so adorable. Every time she lies on her back she shows off her fluffy white belly, but as soon as you try and pet said fluffy white belly, she attacks you.
She seeks me out whenever I’m sitting or lying down and sits on top of me. Then she starts purring and drooling on me. It’s really gross, but so cute at the same time and I can’t bring myself to move her. It’s a real problem when I need to make food for myself.
I hate the back tire on my bike. The front tire I’m okay with because it’s a trail tire, but my back tire is a street tire. It has ZERO traction, meaning that whenever I have to stop suddenly and quickly, it skids . . . a lot. I don’t even know how many times I’ve almost fallen over now because of that thing.
I almost ran into a car today because of that tire. I was riding with my family down Jericho Beach heading home when the hat I was wearing decides to fly off. Luckily, I was wearing a ponytail and it was a baseball cap so I didn’t lose it, but I wanted to slow down to put it back on properly. Sure enough, I have one hand reaching behind my head to grab the hat while the other is applying the brake and the back tire just goes nuts slipping around. It jolted me so much that I’m surprised the hat didn’t just fall off altogether then.
Long story short, I hate street tires.
I think I must be a glutton for punishment because for some reason I keep accepting jobs where I am in charge of a large-ish group of kids. Now, I did a day camps thing a couple weeks ago where, although I was still in charge of said large group of kids, I had people to help me.
Today, however, I was doing some babysitting at my church and it was just a screaming child short of torture. It wasn’t a very big group of children, but I wasn’t originally supposed to be doing it alone. A friend of mine from church, I’ll call her Viola, was supposed to come help out as well. When I arrived this morning, all the staff helping out with the seminar which was the reason for my babysitting job were there, but no Viola.
Now, I have no idea what happened to her, but when I tried calling her there was no answer, home and cell. I figure her family must have gone out for the day and she forgot about the gig, but it’s strange because Viola was actually the one to call and remind me about it a few days ago.
Long story short, I ended up looking after four hyper kids by myself, trying to keep them from constantly running out to bug their parents. I didn’t hate the experience, but let’s lust say I’m glad I’m getting paid for it.
I saw myself within a crowd
a horde, a mob, a thousand clones
I was blinded with the zebra stripes
the shining scales, the sea of white
And as I stood there shaking
quaking, trembling in fear
I saw my spots
my spirals, my colours
And I hid my head in shame
covering, cowering, making myself unseen
But when I looked out I saw
A man who proudly displayed his colours
showed the world, celebrated his individuality
I shed my cloak and my shame
show my colour, my spots, myself
Because perhaps it’s not so bad
When a person learns to stand out