5323...1323... Mechanical and monotonous notes came from the glass window of a two-story building in Alchemy City. The neighbor sitting in the yard looked up as usual and looked at the package at hand.
Then it was thrown back into the basket. The sky was gray, like a sugar cake that had been forgotten at room temperature for half a month, exuding a sour smell and growing mold.
She is a second-year student at Alchemy City Academy. Although she is a fire magician, she prefers to play musical instruments, especially the six-stringed harp. And in the small courtyard where she lives, many people have been immersed in it over the past two years.
Famous song. But perhaps because of her "not doing her job properly", apart from people she knows well, she often gets countless looks and ridicules.
Today is the beginning of her third semester, and the expensive rent is only because of the quiet environment; this is her 300th pair of strings, and she is tuning it. She really wants to send a greeting to the young boss across the street, hoping that he can one day
Know that love; this is the most serious moment for her in the day, because every time night falls, she has to go out to assist for living expenses.
She likes to practice unpopular pieces, such as this piece "El Amor Brujo", whose score is difficult to collect in the library. Her left hand like a spider leg jumps on the fretboard, and her right hand like a jellyfish tentacle fiddles with the six
Xian, her cold expression is as natural as Euterpe, the god of music, and her serious sitting posture seems unchanged for thousands of years. She likes to think while playing the piano and feel relieved when thinking.
The famous bard, Franz Kafka once said, "Our 'self' is like a deflated rubber ball. It needs to be constantly injected with the love of others to maintain its shape, and it cannot withstand even the
A stabbing wound like a needlepoint."
However, in this Alchemy City Academy, where the fate is classified, her friends are either discussing higher education institutions such as Lucca Conservatory of Music, or planning to inherit the title. But she didn't even have the Knob used for practice.
I am reluctant to buy Lohe strings, let alone those handmade harps that cost tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands of gold coins.
Your excellence will only make those around you feel more inferior. After the song ended, she leaned on the neck of the piano with her arms and stared blankly at the noisy street outside the window. Her best friend had just passed the interview and asked her if she could go there in the evening.
Go have dinner together.
She twitched her lips in a self-deprecating manner and nodded in agreement without hesitation, because it was good to save money on a meal. As for the fact that people went to study in the Principality of Moroniel, it had nothing to do with her. She didn't think so.
It’s embarrassing, I even wish there were fewer people at the banquet, because then I might not even have breakfast for tomorrow.
The reason why life is meaningful is that it will stop. Friendship between people begins with curiosity and ends with identity. From "Carcass Etude" to "Legend of Asturias", she is as clumsy as
A Winnie the Pooh, she is as smart as Quinnington, and her gold coin exchange skills are direct and reasonable.
The heart is a house with two bedrooms, one where pain lives, and the other where joy lives. People can't laugh too loud, otherwise the laughter will wake up the pain in the next room. Although she is clumsy, she is generous and decent; she
Even though they are talented, they are lonely. Mediocre performers get the best opportunities for further study, while outstanding artists are always worried about making a living.
Hard work alone is not enough, because ants are also very hard-working, but they are just playthings under the feet of elephants. Tuning, etudes, and complete playing, practice day after day, all seem the same.
If all this happened before the age of ten, it would be a sweet memory, but in the twenties, it happens when people are establishing friendships with others, and the so-called "emotional intelligence" is: fully understanding one's own status.
, accept your destiny, raise your head to look up to the superior, and lower your head to discipline yourself.
On the handle of Balzac's cane it is written: I am crushing all obstacles. And on the handle of her cane it is written: All obstacles are crushing me. The nightmare of last year's college performance competition has still not gone away.
During that time, everyone's topics revolved around both inside and outside the competition, and it seemed that the gossip of all the contestants was more interesting. The focus of everyone's attention was not on the competition itself, but on who was a genius since childhood, and whose love was
The piano is priceless, so-and-so’s father is an earl and marquis, so-and-so’s son is in the same family as him.
The competition went on day by day, and the "participation" players were eliminated one after another, and the remaining elites were all covered with labels and notes. Only her, her presence was as thin as air, and everyone's impression of her was just:
A mid-level fire magician who studies well and plays the piano well.
On the day of the final, the auditorium was filled with Alchemy City nobles. Her opponent was chatting and laughing with everyone before the game started, as if everyone present was an old friend. But she sat silently in the preparation area, skillfully
He was adjusting the old man's instrument that he had been using for many years. Musical instrument competitions are not like fighting. The winner is not who is behind the magic power. In addition to technical considerations, emotional tension is also an element of the competition.
But what standards are there for such an illusory thing as feelings? She lost because she said "the emotion was not expressed properly". The air that night was smelling of ale, so she shut herself in the room and quietly
Looking out the window at the feasting and feasting.
If she doesn’t feel frustrated, she will naturally not be inspired to become more courageous with each setback, because the frequency of this kind of thing is so high that she has become numb. Failure has not become a stepping stone on her road to success, but is like a puzzle.
It forms a brand new and indispensable road sign.
This is like those sacred texts that praise the old gods. Although they are regarded as supreme masterpieces by the aliens, how many people know that they are basically a copy of the manuscript of a bard in the ancient magic era. Just because the world is fascinated by what they contain.
The beauty and power of the depiction blinded the eyes, or it could be said that it was a spiritual pillar to refute the dogma of the gods.
The blood-red sunset was her coat. The girl packed her luggage, but the so-called "luggage" was mostly music scores and notepads. As for the invitation letter from the nobles of Wallkill City, it determined her future direction.<
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Successful lives are all the same, and bumpy experiences are different. The dream of becoming an artistic girl has long been awakened. Those who can play in the concert hall are called artists, and those who only serve as background music in the streets are also artists, or "self-comfort"
"Style artist". The master performing a show on the road is a life adjustment, but for many people, it is a life force and a last resort.
Life is not a life-or-death battle in a gladiatorial arena. More failures does not mean a higher success rate "next time." You must know that an old quail that becomes more courageous with every setback has no advantage over an inexperienced young chicken.
In other words. On the contrary, the experience of failure again and again has become the premise of "starting over" countless times.
Failure is an inertia. Smart people will choose to change direction. Only fools will go all the way to the dark side. They naively thought they could break through the south wall, but ended up falling off a cliff and dying. Reading book
The exaggerated experience of failure is nothing more than a disguised form of success learning. Only those who have succeeded will succeed. What can be learned after failure is disappointment and inferiority. People often say that failure is the mother of success, maybe it is just the stepmother.
There is no such thing as success or failure in this world. Failure and success are just the marks we put on a certain stage in the long road of life. And these marks are just invented by us when we are too idle to satisfy our after-dinner conversation.