Nothing kicks ass like cool sip of Kilkenny draught

I've had kickass Kilkenny Irish beer draught I had with the French cellist and a good friend Mr K. Funny thing was I was all the usual bitching about this ang moh conductor who gave us a nightmare rehearsal of Rachmaninov 2nd symphony. Mr French cellist hit a nail on my head when he said, "Its easy to bitch and whine about other people, but why not we improve ourselves first?". In a sense this guy is much of a contrast that the other dude Mr K regarding the orchestra.

Dude, its fine you have standards but why the fuck you need to butt in and tell me to find another flute teacher? Seriously? Just because I flunked my conservatory audition? Or just because you changed you cello teacher and you feel that I should "have a change of scenary" too? Fuck me sideways man, with your old teacher you weren't even contemplating life without him. Seriously improve yourself and get your ass somewhere before you have the right to try to dictate my playing and who is teaching me.

Hitting dead end.

I slept like what, 12 fucking hours. Relationships are screwing me all over. Why can't I practice my flute in piece and not worry whether the opposite sex will call me or vice-versa?

Same fucking shit, my relationship sinks even before going stepping off step 1.

Sick of trying to chant hours, people telling me about faith and believing that winter will turn into spring. It looks like winter never ends here.

I miss my brother so much. Now living doesn't really matter no more. Sick of trying to "live a good life". I'll fucking go on orgy spree before I die. No more passion for the orchestra, sick of putting up with load of bollocks. Bollocks and all.

Walking tickling time bomb.

Tried to do my best as a human being, but gaining attention and affection is like rocket science to me. Never cheated a girl in my life, but none ever gave me a chance.

Isn't it nice if we can switch off these self-destructing emotive chemicals in our brain at will?

I'm falling victim to what I loathe as emo-ing douchebag. Emoing are for pussies. Yet I'm trying hard to be something that I am not.

Almost few times in a week I'd wish I'd taken place my brother who died in an accident. It should've been me, even though he is a temperamental kid, he had much to live for. I am past my prime in my age, and I think I must've accumulated quite a number of bad karma for me to be still in a fucked up state.

I've been a walking time bomb for so many years its a wonder I'm still alive. Until when?

Good friends

The Tchaikovsky 6 that I watched change my life again. I've been so fortunate to witness not so rarely concerts where routine, facade and facelessness gave way to abandonment of expression and spirit. And I've always admired Claus Peter Flor whom despite polarizing opinions about him, I'd expect something quite opposite of the sterile dullness of Mathias Bamert's reign.

I've come to accept that I will never be somewhat a decent class performer of sorts. It has always been my mission to be a teacher or some sort of mentor. Mentor in a sense to mould people who would become 10 times better than me at least and achieve things that I would never dream or thought of. And life has a musician has always been very difficult and most people in my shoes would have given up this path, but I know since music nourished me and sustained me long whom without I would've been extinct for some time.

I'm very grateful for the oboist friend, despite the fact he is a highly experienced and accomplished musician, our friendship never diminished in all years we knew each other. He probably accorded me with same respect with his peers of same level and accomplishment despite the fact I am just an ordinary talentless musician. And I was quite honoured to play in his house recital and have a MPO musician to compliment my playing.

I am quite fortunate to have known a number of good potential juniors in my orchestra who took my advice and guidance seriously and I know with these kids the orchestra will blossom in a good direction. Good riddance to people who prioritizes their trifle affairs over the long term potential that this orchestra could be if they put sacrifices into it.

The need to be ruthless

I am in a position where I realise I am wasting my life for not having the balls to deal with things. I can see the obvious, whether I am playing music, conducting, or dealing with insecurities and shit.

There are people I know whom they are popular with practically everyone. I know I'm not a dickhead but I am not a "popular" person. Of course I am not envious with those kind (being envious with playas who can score a pussy is different shit altogether). I am not adept in engaging with idle chat and there are "dialect barrier" BS even though my Mandarin is more awesome compared with five years ago.

So, life is short being nice. I'll do things my way or die trying.

Wagner and Bieber

Loads of empty seats for Wagner programme at MPO today. Which is kinda odd considering full houses for Mahler symphonic works performed every time there. Then again it is odd that the management did not ask MPYO members to fill in the seats to avoid embarrassment as they previously used to.

Then again I thought it would be good to promote these kind of concerts to wind band enthusiasts. How many times can you hear 9 fucking horns in an MPO concert? And listen to rare instruments such as Wagner Tuba, bass trumpets etc. I don't get kids who plays brasses that aspire to play in a concert that has among others, a Justin Bieber medley. I fucking avoid wind band concerts like plague now. Sorry call me a fucking snob since their programmes are predictable and I've been fed on diet of 2nd Viennese School, Varese and Ligeti. Don't programme a concert with easy listening medleys and call that "art" btw pretty please.

Modesty, in tune, blah blah

Its kind of sad when your playing betrays such "prestigious" fucking CV you have. Woooooooooo, you won competitions, you won scholarships to study in a famous American conservatory, you tour with orchestras.

And yet you can't keep a fucking simple note in tune 90% of the time, whatmoreless when you attempt some flashy virtuoso piece which will make Guantanamo bay prisoners be glad to eat dog poop.

Another lesson: When somebody brags that they have perfect pitch, they're not. Full fucking stop.