Thursday, August 7, 2008


I've left the radio on all day, singing each and everything that was played regardless of the lyrics. I just want to go wild and forget about what's waiting for me to fix. I just want to lift up my broken head and kiss that mike. It would be great if there'd be a chance for me to jam like I used to on stage after church where that yellow padded mike is mine and I'll be gripping it by the stand and taking over the stage. Needless to say if I were to do that with classical singing, I think Vaccai might just resurrect and shoot me dead. Do you know how I'm feeling? The need to just sing anything my pianist would play and just let the music flow, I may not have a full band but there is noise going. My passion is not a one way path in attempt to break windows and glasses, but to just sing as though I'm speaking. Yes, my main problem is still knocking at my door but it'll be nice if I can have a chance to grip that mike again and sing "Put your records on" by Corrine Bailey Rae.
The longing to just let my hair down (metaphorically and not metaphorically) is so persistent. I've failed to be silent seriously, I used to be so excited and hyper worship leading for Sunday School kids, back- up in church, karaoke, school performances. It was all too good to lose. Well, I'm not in school anymore and I'm certainly not one of those students whom teachers remember. You know, there are so many songs I've longed to perform but unfortunately my piano skills are rather limited to do so. Songs like "Angels brought me here" by Guy Sebastian, and how can I forget???? "Big Yellow Taxi" Amy Grant version where my vocal teacher used to play for me on the piano while I sing. Oh darn, the good old days. It feels as though you're standing on high rocks watching over the seas, feeling the breeze slapping your face, pulling your hair back and when you open your eyes........ the golden sunset shining on you. I've always felt it that way whenever I sing on stage, pop songs I mean. I'll never know how it feels doing a performance for classical because I've never flown solo, not once. Every morning I view my files in the computer-- songs that I wish I had a chance to sing and God bless me if I'll ever learn how to play with the given chords.

Alas! The day has come to an end, the sun has set and the moon is rising, it was all just a day dream, with that questioning heart of mine. When will that mike be given to me again? Where my accompanist plays without hesitation till I am ready to collaborate with my voice. Hmm.. if a microphone were to ever be shoved into my face again, I'd sing Clay Aiken's latest, "On my way here" Let's see if the power of the word "if" defeats reality. Loving Michael Bubble's jazzy drawl, I quote his lyrics, "Sway with me"

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