trigger: situation impossible (again)
The shock of my immediate failures subdues me. And then I shrivel up like skin in a bath, becoming vulnerable, yet insignificant. Yesterday I was supposed to go to the Boston Symphony's 8:00pm concert. The lineup was Tchaikovsky, Thomas Aides, and Sibelius. The theme was 'The Tempest' and I played it on the computer after missing the shuttle to reconfirm how tragic it was that I missed it. It sounded good. I sounded like something at that very moment I would give up everything else for because for some reason, music never sounded so precious and one of a kind. It was one of a kind, and for one night only. Fuck. It was because I was careless and forgot my wallet. Sometimes I really loathe myself for fucking up. This was something I had been waiting a week for. It took time to get the (free) ticket. I am a tool.
Aside from another failure in the book of life, I have no doubt in my mind that the work that awaits shall be done. I'm not THAT discouraged or anything. But hell, sometimes the work don't pay off.
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