I sat down at the piano bench in my teacher's house and played my assigned song flawlessly, in my very first attempt. He celebrated and gave me a little punch on the shoulder. It was really scary because I consistently played the last two measures wrong when practicing, including this morning when I was preparing. I interpreted "moderately fast" a little arbitrarily and I was afraid he would say it wasn't fast enough, but he said it was "exemplary". For the first year the pressure of playing for him caused me to make mistakes I wouldn't normally make, but something has clearly changed because now the pressure causes me to play better. I'm finally getting to the point where I can play real songs, and not just stupid silly jingles. Which is nice, it's very nice, there's a feeling of accomplishment.
I remember when I had just-past-shoulder length curly hair and wore bowties everywhere, all the semi-pentecostal Christians that I was surrounded with in my great involvement with my old church gave me personal prophecies that I would be some great musician. I believed it for a while, and told people I was going to dedicate my life to music, but oddly enough once I shaved my head all these prophecies suddenly ceased, which is kind of confirmation to me that it was because I just looked like a musician. Who knows, maybe it actually is true. I'm not going to roll the dice on it, I'm not superstitious enough to buy into prophecy but I'm superstitious enough to be terrified that I'll roll a nat 20 on dedicating my life to music. I have found that bad things happen to me when I defy the dice, so I refuse to take the gamble. Maybe that's selfish of me, not accepting the entropy of the universe that I so fervently dedicate myself to.
There is this slowly-swelling pervasive feeling within me, I think it's loneliness of some kind. I don't see my friends very often, and I talk on the phone pretty much every day but it's just not the same. but when I meet a new person to befriend, I experience such an overpowering compulsion to shun them, and I don't know why I do it. There was this guy that went to a support group I was in, he went out of his way to sit by me and talk me, and I shunned him and didn't respond or reach out, even though he seemed like a cool person and I don't have many friends. I don't know what's wrong with me, but now he is gone and there's no way to get the opportunity back.
Full honesty, I don't know why I write these daylogs. I don't know if they even help me. I just feel a compulsion to write them, like it's not even a choice.
Ugh. So many feelings right now and I don't know how to make them stop. I hate how emotional I am, I tried so hard to repress it for years and now I'm learning to feel the feelings again and it's so painful because they're so intense and illogical and overwhelming. I'm trying to think objectively, but it's easier than it sounds. "It's whatever" used to be something I would say axiomatically and aphoristically, but I've sort of drifted away from both axioms and aphorisms. Thinking with feelings is not a very good move for me.
I keep having this very strange and vivid image in my mind (I think it's from a dream) of a once-mighty angel with broken wings, bleeding from dozens of whip lashes, his skin pallid and sickly, rotting in some cellar. I keep having dreams about angels, I don't know why but it's driving my crazy. When I was 20 I had dreams about androids often. There seem to often be repeating themes in my dreams.
I lied just now about the music thing. On infathomably stupid impulse I just rolled on quitting school and doing music. A nat 20, reroll gave me a 17. I'm too weak to follow through, so I fully expect something awful to happen to me when I defy the dice. I don't know what's wrong with me. Maybe I should wait another year until I have more theory under my belt.
My Youtube channel has 180 subscribers. I have gained 150 of them in the past week. It's pretty cool, but I don't know how long the growth will continue.
I want to write more but I am sick of introspection and any continue writing about my life will cause me mental nausea so I am done for the night.