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Musical, Debilitating Renegade

To see, in full-length, how I am angered and how I function so is to cross a virtual epiphany. Arrogant and longanimous she exists as. I wonder why I still care to refer to myself in third person. I enjoy analyzing Helena. Leastwise. . . the “MetroArts thirteen” is visually assaulting me by airing “Juilliard,” for - hmph! - perhaps an hour AND a half!

I am angered by the violinists, violists, and ESPECIALLY the cellists that I see in this program. Of course, I am angered and saddened by other programs that show the same junction. Cello, viola, and violin solos depress me. Yo-Yo Ma is predacious to my instrument. Juilliard fuels my wrath!!!

These musicians pose as rapists. As so, I am left ravaged and exclaiming.

Aforesaid, I asked for this one instrument in hopes of further self-transcendence, or rather tranquility and completeness. In return I receive abuse and more neglect. What an equal trade. So fair and decent. . . Applause! Contraire. . . BLAST! I am expected to sit idle while being treated as the inferior. Arrogance! - Please, step forth to. . . I call upon. . . Lest I. . .

Blast I say! Let the visual flair decease! Or. . .let my immune system fail. I am alarmed.

I cut so easily - a scratch to pain. Ah, more blood? Helena, said I, did you not bleed afore to this night. Twas the umbrella, I replied, that struck me. But the blood flew...flew as if I were cut by a knife - And wounds that heal like the graceful walk of a snail, I exclaimed! Why illness at such solemn times when this parent is losing power? Without remorse, I call arrogance and silence.

Alas! Silence! It knows its place and if not, finds it without struggle. If displaced, silence creates its place. How can one sit or stand without speaking, without moving, without outspoken eyes? Silence is its genius! It without thorn - it is better to be silent than to speak with undirected “assurance”. Careless assurance!

Now, I take my leave to emotionally mutilate myself with this program. Tears or no. . .

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