Saturday, 25 February 2012
my blue sky!!: FORESTS:NATURE AT YOUR SERVICE.
my blue sky!!: FORESTS:NATURE AT YOUR SERVICE.: World Environment Day Forests: Nature At Your Service 05 June Hello, welcome to Nature's Forest Service...
Saturday, 18 February 2012
my blue sky!!
My ears have been corrupted. Yep, it started with a note then went to a tune and before I knew it, it was a whole song. I just loved the words,the instumentation and beats that had me popping my head. First of all, as a teenager, music is one of those things that speaks volumes with less fuss at all. It was the one topic that made me fit in when chatting, the one talent that made me shine in the music festivals. Music was do,re,me,fa, so and yet so much more. So I started making an excuse everytime Ja Rule cursed and had the word nigger censored in his songs-it's just the bad boy attitude, I don't swear anyway. Or when Britney spoke so much vulgar trash and Beyonce strutted on my screen nearly half-nude- it's just showbiz, after all they're married with kids and their family doesn't seem to mind. Then came the "bend over"- at least I didn't like that one.
But little by little I began to see where I'd preferred to be blind, hear when all this time my ears were wide open. I didn't like what I found. All this time I was listening, I was carving out a vaccum. I was pushing someone to the corner. That someone who had fed me wholesomely with renewal and brought me this far. While I was still deaf, I used to live for the next hit. The hits never stopped coming- they came more powerful than the previous one. Soon I didn't even recognise myself. I had no playlist- just give me whatever is on billboard 10 and I'll play it. If it's good enough, I'll put it on my ringtone.
Then it got hard to explain how in the middle of a church service,my phone would scream-" party rock!" Yeah, I thought I had it on silent mode too, till I found it at Volume 5 , five minutes later at the bottom of my bag. Or when that song "ashawo" by Mr. Flava was such a favourite until Ifound out it was Koinange anthem. I had let too much pass through my sieve that I no longer had a sieve anymore. Just to make things worse, this whole Illuminati truth surfaced and I guess that was the last straw for me. I needed a brain check.
So now I cut the long story short and write to you as a transforming and yet to be transformed girl. I rediscovered my ears. Music still is that passion of mine, but it's also my tool of talking to the friend I booted in the corner.If it's something I can't listen to with my friend, I give it a second thought. I also found other new friends- one of whom is Franchesca Batistelli. In one of her snogs, she speaks of her blue sky. My blue sky was not those tunes that got me happy. My blue sky is the friend that gave me the chance to ilsten to those tunes in the first place. That music is not a distraction, but an inspiration. I don't want to abuse it and get my emotions raised up to a point of vilonce, rage, lust and depression. Then go back to the same music to get my daily dose until this junkie can't see herself anymore, just the next tune she'll hear. My new belief is even more reinforced by the demise of musical legends like Whitney and Micheal. So soon, so sad yet so puzzling why when they had all that talent. I know music can't solve all my problems, it helps me a tiny bit but the sloution is in my friend. So I'm sieving out the trash bit by bit and looking for more blue skies. Oh, and by the way, my friend's called Jesus, He says hey!
But little by little I began to see where I'd preferred to be blind, hear when all this time my ears were wide open. I didn't like what I found. All this time I was listening, I was carving out a vaccum. I was pushing someone to the corner. That someone who had fed me wholesomely with renewal and brought me this far. While I was still deaf, I used to live for the next hit. The hits never stopped coming- they came more powerful than the previous one. Soon I didn't even recognise myself. I had no playlist- just give me whatever is on billboard 10 and I'll play it. If it's good enough, I'll put it on my ringtone.
Then it got hard to explain how in the middle of a church service,my phone would scream-" party rock!" Yeah, I thought I had it on silent mode too, till I found it at Volume 5 , five minutes later at the bottom of my bag. Or when that song "ashawo" by Mr. Flava was such a favourite until Ifound out it was Koinange anthem. I had let too much pass through my sieve that I no longer had a sieve anymore. Just to make things worse, this whole Illuminati truth surfaced and I guess that was the last straw for me. I needed a brain check.
So now I cut the long story short and write to you as a transforming and yet to be transformed girl. I rediscovered my ears. Music still is that passion of mine, but it's also my tool of talking to the friend I booted in the corner.If it's something I can't listen to with my friend, I give it a second thought. I also found other new friends- one of whom is Franchesca Batistelli. In one of her snogs, she speaks of her blue sky. My blue sky was not those tunes that got me happy. My blue sky is the friend that gave me the chance to ilsten to those tunes in the first place. That music is not a distraction, but an inspiration. I don't want to abuse it and get my emotions raised up to a point of vilonce, rage, lust and depression. Then go back to the same music to get my daily dose until this junkie can't see herself anymore, just the next tune she'll hear. My new belief is even more reinforced by the demise of musical legends like Whitney and Micheal. So soon, so sad yet so puzzling why when they had all that talent. I know music can't solve all my problems, it helps me a tiny bit but the sloution is in my friend. So I'm sieving out the trash bit by bit and looking for more blue skies. Oh, and by the way, my friend's called Jesus, He says hey!
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