Due to the fact my previous upload was posted over two weeks ago, you might correctly assume what todays post is about, what todays music upload might sound like…and you might be right on both counts.
Today has brought about the culmination of a building frustration. Little by little I have been subjected to what I can only explain in my somewhat silly but fatalistic way of looking at things, as many tests or challenges bringing me to remember what is important, and who is important.
Tests, might I add, that I have perhaps failed in, or at the very least, struggled my way through. Tests that have presented some ideals in life that I care little for, opinions that I disagree with, ways of working (or not working) that I have a slight irritation and dislike for, and all the while something slowly, but knowingly, has been disappearing into my past, slowly losing my grip on, a grip that is challenging me and my belief in it. Making music.
My time is not to be wasted. I cannot spend time in a place I am only situating myself in, due to society and its external factors that I am yet to master, and be in this place, and yet all the while be unable to do or act upon the very thing or reason I am in this place to begin with. I am not at a play school, and as much as I may enjoy the occasional playing myself, I am there for a purpose, a reason, and a reason that needs a delicate and essential understanding of the thing so many of us discard, that is of time.
My time is not to be wasted, our time is not to be wasted. Do we not have an ever disappearing amount of it? Do we not say, or perhaps we pretend? that we value time? that we make the most of it? ye perhaps we claim to be ‘oh so busy’ when in reality, when the truth comes down to it, when the shit is pushed aside and when perhaps our life is depending on it, we have not nearly enough respect for the time we have, and what we should do with it, and that we are actually wasting our own time, and the time of those nearest.
The question is perhaps, how do we respect the time of others around us? Do we assume that our time is ours alone? Or is it perhaps that our time is one that is shared with those nearest, and that through wasting our time, through having no respect for our own time, we are also reducing the time of those nearest. We are affectively killing those nearest, the death being one of lesser fulfilment that might have otherwise been, had they simply had the time, had their time.
My time, our time, and the time of those around us is not to be wasted.