Written by: Mikey Lysiak, Staff Writer
The day is bright and blue, with fresh air and bloom, it calls me to wake up, it calls me to enjoy it.
Before I go outside, I decide to stay; stay and sleep for the spring break, continuing to lie down under the blankets and scroll, then I will leave and enjoy the day.
But all the passions are so intriguing, those who cook boiling fried eggs that are perfect, those who make the cakes filled with cream, drops of chocolate and a magnificent strawberry for the top.
I want to eat it, taste it, have a scoop of it, but not just to jump through the screen and indulge it, no, I want to be like them, to have it all done in six seconds and show the world my creation; look at me, look at my eggs, my cake, and what I have done.
It seems so simple, so easy to complete, so I look up and scroll looking for more eggs and more cake, but never, the way to get to that reality where it is my eggs, my cake.
I always pass by the videos that are instructive, telling me the ingredients and what I need, half of these things I am hearing I have no interest in knowing, but when it comes to seeing it created with satisfying motion and sounds, then my attention is grabbed, and I stay in the dream.
I sigh after I start to feel numb, after I have tried so long to keep up the excitement of this new feeling, but it is already becoming oversaturated in my mind.
But I should do it.
I should cook it.
Make it.
Complete it… but looking outside the blue and bright of the day has slightly fallen, I haven’t gone outside to check if the day is fresh, or to watch the bloom of the plants.
It is already two in the afternoon, too late for eggs, and too early to bake cake, but too late to get any ingredients, so I will do it tomorrow.
Then I lift from my bed, asking as I stretch what I want to do, what I wish to do with my remaining time today, however the day is already too short, there is barely anything I could do and I argue with myself that that is the truth as the clock ticks down.
See, it is already three, so I have no time, but the last hour it has just been me arguing, so maybe now I shall just relax and go to the guitar and strum a new song, I promised myself a challenge to learn a new bop.
It should relax me from the stress.
A new beat.
A new song for me to say that I have made, that I have created or learned, I have been wanting to play what I listen to on Spotify for quite some time now, for a long time now, so today is the day.
And I sit down and get my pics ready and warm up my fingers and crunch them real hard against the strings and play what I already know how to play, the little I have learned.
And then I scroll for something to learn, and I fall in love with the music, the passion that he has when he switches his cords really fast, the passion that she has as she closes her eyes and hits every note perfectly behind my screen.
I watch the comments, the praise, the hearts and the love for how great the musician has played.
Not just a player, but a musician, a real professional, real talent, that can be me, that is me, I’m learning right now, I see myself there in the video, playing my heart out with millions watching.
But here I am in the moment, to learn, and as I slow the video down and try to follow along, as I look up the tabs for the song, my eyes start to fall as I sigh and can never get it right.
My fingers still aren’t used to pressing down and they are ready to give out.
All of the sudden the faint melody of the song I so desperately try to play transitions to what I already know, it’s so easy, so comfortable to play this song that I have been with for so long, but it is still a slog, not the whole music piece just a piece of it, I promised myself to learn the rest.
I shake unnervingly when I reach the end but I know there is so much more left for me to learn, but then I tell myself no, I want to learn what is on the screen, the tablature, to be the musicians I have already watched… it’s just a bit hard, so I would like to watch a bit more of them.
It is five o’clock, so it should not be so wrong, so I sit down and continue watching the guitars and seeing myself playing it under the stars, at a campfire, at a concert, with uncountable people watching me, my passion.
What I have done.
What I have made.
And it is seven now, I sigh as I look outside, the day is no longer blue and bright and I will not be going outside to feel any air, to see any bloom, and for the past two hours I have been telling myself to stop my break and continue working, but it is too late.
It is already ten past seven, so I shall put my guitar away for the day, and I will continue tomorrow.
But now, as I get up and leave the room, now, what else is there to do?
I pace, I sit, I groan, as I stay and think, about what I should do.
Maybe make myself some dinner, some pasta… no, that’s too hard, too late, I will warm up a rice bowl in the microwave and have it do the work for me.
I should finish some homework that I am missing… but I can wait till tomorrow.
As the microwave hums, I sit lifelessly in the chair as I scroll, I eat the bowl when it is done and still feel hungry as I fall into bed and keep getting up for snacks as I watch videos on fitness and working out.
So maybe I should do that tomorrow.
And look at that, it is already ten, so maybe I should go to bed, wake up early to be like those who run in the morning, the fresh early morning, to feel the air first, to breathe it, and see the sunlight show the bloom of the flowers and the beautiful world… no, just a few more minutes on my phone, just a few more.
Then I shall sleep.