I ran from failure. I'm still running. As far as I can, as long as I can, trying to avoid the day when it finally overtakes me for good. The chase wreaks havoc on my senses. But fear keeps me running. Even though I hardly know anything of where I'm going, clearing hurdles blindly, not wanting to look behind me for what I've left behind. And in this dazed, confused state, I dare not turn back to face the unresolved eventuality. To face the possibility of being left senseless, witless, oblivious to the entire spectrum, cast off from the entire plane itself and never to return. I don't know what it is exactly I'm writing now but well, that's confusion...


I wonder just what it is that makes me tick, that keeps me going in the face of a gigantic examination which should not be occurring that people are preparing for the wrong way for the wrong reasons. And I watch all this and I know I'm disgusted to the core, but I still don't know why I'm pushing forward with all this.


I can't visualise my success, really. Only myself doing what I want to do: bringing my cello out frequently, playing in concerts, orchestral, chamber or solo, and hearing the satisfied applause of the audience.


I fall back on the pseudo-conclusion that I'm a depressed guy with not much to live for and that in turn makes me even more depressed.


It's all a downward cycle right now and I wonder if I can escape that cycle into the routine, discipline and days of physical exhaustion in NS and start anew when I come out.


If someone, anyone would only give me a reason for, I'd work my heart out just as hard and perhaps harder than I've ever put in on my cello for the cause.


I have to go ask a few questions.