What I Am, Who You Are

Am I one of a million?

Or a million of one?
The difference is trivial, they say.

We met once.
By another mundane mistake.
I am an atheist.
Predestination is flawed theology.
Is it?

Questions are overwhelming-
Curious little gentlemen.
Polite and mechanical,
Yet each one so unique.
Like you.
And me?

Through hypothetical reasoning,
I developed the idea.
An innocent trimming, perhaps,
But a coddled one.

We travel by bus at the rise of midnight.
Limber critters anxious for youth-
For something new.

And there it is.
An oasis developed little by little,
Now a tranquil haven.
I don't recognize a soul,
For this is Somewhere Else.

The homage now a memory,
The journey now complete.
I know now of my differentials,
And they belong solely...
...to me?

Another question once more,
Over a daily swift cup of lemon tea.
With you I share it with,
And there they are.

A million of me.

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Many wonder the purpose of these muses: what do they imply?

Nothing, perhaps.

But everything, nevertheless.

Summer's Rain

I recently sent this out to my friends, and I find it very entertaining. If you hope to find out a little more about me, this letter may assist you in your search. I like enthralling and quaint objects, such as bubbles, wooden figurines, and handmade whimsies, so this article probably proves it. The text does not expose or exhibit my friends in a negative nor positive direction, so no offense should be mentioned, unless you are finicky and opinionated. 

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My dear fellow acquaintance,

It may have come to your mind that summer is coming on the final steps of its gallant march. Soon, it will intrepidly slip away and hibernate until Spring gathers her skirts for time immemorial, a parallel universe where all that is unseen recluse until unveiling calls their name.

From my point of view, it is a little late for a mid-Summer's greeting, for as you may have noticed, July is closing its curtains in just a week. But it is never too late to say 'hello', nor for a "time to talk".

Of course, this message was not meant to be literal in any aspect, as it is just another one of my useless, but nevertheless quaint, novelties. However, my heart does speak truly when it echoed my salutations. "Summer's Rain" is an analogy toward dark and light, or perhaps opposites in general. And, in placing this metaphor, I am honoring the fading summer and welcoming the russet autumn. 

Memories will unite with master as school stealthily creeps into our lives once more. It will be hard to let go of carefree schedules and well-fought freedom as crotchety tutors instruct us into inflexible positions. But I feel summer will never end, as does any other season. They will only come again as reminiscences, rejoicing with us for staggered visits until there time to reign arises.

I hope that you have had a productive summer, as time should always be consumed wisely. It has been a pleasure coming to ridiculous surmises with you over what we call the Internet. May the Force be with you.

Your humble friend,

Starr

P.S. Of course you understand that this was not meant as a parting letter. I honestly believe that I wrote this for the sake of boredom.

O&A

First, I would like to apologize for my informal and rather unprofessional voice in the first post. Ironically, in real life I am actually a very serious and composed persona, one you would probably always discover with a thoughtful, vacant stare. I have an extreme penchant for philosophical values, and I can argue with you  for weeks on only one facet. 

Now, wasn't that a scripted intro?

Perhaps you are wondering if I will go off on another disorganized tangent today. For those who are attached to digressions, I am sincerely sorry to say that the format for this post will be a little more structured, like that of a sonnet or haiku. But for every line, you have the will to illustrate your words any direction you want. Kind of life, isn't it?

Today, we are going to contemplate on stereotypes, since people fall me in that category much too often. I may have an ineffable attention span, but that does not mean I am not versatile or active. For many of my peers, the term 'fun' is taboo in their families, and days stumble past with fluttering workbooks pages and heavily scribbled documents. Work may be important, but the scaffolding for it is sometimes too strictly structured. We live upon it, thinking it will make us a better person, but it never really illuminates the light bulb, putting us into a time line excluding the downfalls and "Golden Ages".

I'll admit that I'm pretty much a dork. Researching is key to breathing, and each time a new wrinkle crumples in my brain, I have to muse for hours on it into the claws of midnight. Even though I feel discouraged when mistakes and flaws plummet upon me, I yearn for them. They are what make me human - a true living soul. 

Essentially, there is less risk of failure when you huddle in an office cubicle for eight hours a day, but there is also a slimmer probability of success. If you really dissected the connotations of these two words, they are closely alike in every aspect. People view one as positive and another as negative, but is failure the end of your career? Is success the beginning?

Money is not life's specialty. The common assumption is that work will immediately follow with a monetary reward. But currency will soon lose its value, as fluctuating prices these days prove a future of inflation and depression. What we see with our eyes is temporal, but what we do not see is eternal. The micro and macro will linger even as light subdues to forces beyond our control and bids farewell to the master it served for countless generations. Time will continue to influence galaxies along the horizon and perhaps even mere figments of imagination. Legacies will never die.

Life is followed by death, but the end should not be mourned. Death is life, as it is another life to explore. But it should be noted that time will not fuel you forever.

Perhaps we are not worthy of being given the gift of living. So many of us slip it between our fingertips and let it shatter and go to waste. Some say that Earth was an accident in creation, an experiment failed by the Greater Good. But let it be known that nothing can happen without cause. Miracles do not exist.

If we did things upon compulsion, would we live life by its width rather than the length? If we did things we enjoyed, would everything taste a little sweeter? These are questions that are difficult to prove but equally challenging to disprove as well. 

But it is proven that if we are confident in what we do, and we take action rather than try, our possibilities of savoring the moment and focusing the point will be exponentially higher. And while we share and cooperate with others on this lone planet, we are still individuals.

We can still change ourselves. 

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I don't think my post lived up to its title at all. My intentions were to do a reporter-theme Q&A, but that never occurred, did it? Splat me with tomatoes if you'd like.

Well, I wish you a splendid day with grandeur upon your own opinion. And if you did somehow become  diagnosed with a  cardiovascular disease while panning over this blog, I am not responsible for medical bills or anything of that sort.

Good day.

Can You See Me?

Curious title, isn't it? But hopefully you can see me, or something malfunctioned along our lines of communications. As they say, music is one of the three international languages. And music has never failed my life, except for occasional intense competition. When that occurs, practice goes up in a uproar.

Sometimes I feel the world would be a better place if we didn't have a scattered heritage; if we didn't judge each other by ethnicity and rituals. But life would be too predictable that way, wouldn't it? Of course, you have to reach Expectations before exploring beyond it, but once in a while I think of time as a gamble. You can't always control it, but through common sense, structured logic, calculated probability, and a spirit of adventure, you can hypnotize the fundamentals. The twists and turns prove a different matter, but who would want to influence that? Enthusiasm fails me there.

It would be interesting if the vernacular of every existing nation were music. Poco, vivace, and fortissimo would echo along the halls as we step into a brighter, more radiant environment. You see, all the terrors that wreck lives and dominate authority are essentially resurrected by humans, questionably our most highlighted trait the ownership of conscience. Thinking, to most people, is mostly imperceptible, due to our ancestry and the evolution that constructed our fluent momentum. Thus, our unnoticed mundane mistakes dissipate into fireworks that extinguish our balance and even savor the sweet success over some other "lesser" life form as well. If only our emotions could lapse and share a common goal, and we let go of the worth of the individual. Something would most definitely would arise from the shadows then, and our perceptions of "utopia" and "dystopia" would never coexist once more. One cannot function without the other but neither is a recipient of reality.

Of course, some uninitiated killjoy will probably nonchalantly pass by to ask, "Can music really do all that?" Well, first of all, nothing's guaranteed, so that question is a little invalid. But while music may not be able to end the will for wealth (for lust will never become extinct), it can lend a hand in connecting individuals and allow us to see each other in a new mirror, one that is fearless for the truth but willing to accept it.

If you are wondering why this blog is bestowed with the most humble title 'Vibrato', my simple response is that it is the essence of what makes music rich and resonant. Whether the vibrato is silvery or toad-like (if that even makes sense), it will never cease to fulfill its true definition. And I'll leave that thought for you to complete.

I swear my heart in saying that I will give my full efforts in trying to introduce myself in a clearer fashion for the next post. If my ramble-y self overwhelms you, please discontinue the reading of this blog. I do not want to be guilty of heart or lung problems, for that would be most disconcerting.

Until next time!