I am keeping myself occupied as much as I can, so that I feel I am very much alive. I am playing this Chopin Ballade madly, but my playing doesn't have a soul. It's loud, messy... I hear no musicianship in me. so empty. there's nothing. I want to feel pain, but I feel nothing.
Okay, maybe I shouldn't play. I feel like I am insulting Chopin and whoever can play this piece...
#
Maybe I became a composer because I fear to be alone. I have my music.