ME – The Bassist “Indescribable Melodic Trace”


I look at myself, my dark eyes surveyed me with emptiness and a kind of chagrin that reached back generations and generations in my blood from not having done what was crying to be done--whatever it was, and everybody knows what it was. But it seems like nobody’s care at all. NO one even tried.

I felt like sometimes I’m like a mad musician who had paraded on official days and broke up the marches into ragtime, so useless.

My-----My Song, own written masterpieces, are all drafted representation of a truthful speculations of my personal being. Yet, it remains as a written draft, bluntly and rigidly done. Every word I wanted to shout are all being paralyzed, torpid of sending it out broadcast to rock the jazz world.

What difference does it make after all?--anonymity in the world of human is better than fame in heaven, for what's heaven? What’s earth? All in the mind but I don’t mind. Ha-ha-ha so chaotic, a lil’ peculiar side of me.

But…

Every now and then a clear harmonic cry gave new suggestions of a tune that would someday be the only tune in the world and would raise people's souls to joy. Our battered suitcases were piled on the sidewalk again; we had longer ways to go. But no matter, the road is life.