Concerts are just refreshing. Like a pegaga juice during an intermission of a long journey from KL to Penang in a car with a moody air-conditioner. And all concerts has a certain familiar perk (or so I thought). A similar feeling, immensed in the richness of music and vibe.
The concert I recently attended which was Lee Hom's was different in a sense that I was given a VIP pass and seat. It was different because I dined at the all-seeing podium before the show. And I was with a person dear to me. It was all a big blurry picture, the concert. There were so many interweaving emotions that knitted the day that I can't possibly make out the end of it. Or the general outlook. Is it a mitten or is it a jumpsuit? But there is one thing for sure that stood out that night, I was really in my skin, comfortably refined. Maybe because of her. Maybe it's that night's mysterious moon light. Maybe its because I'd been considering even more maybes before that day.
Chinese or not, music is universal. It may appear so in video clips and MP3s but it has the universal effect when the tune vibrates throughout my body and into my heart. When the beating of two different vibes appeal to one another, sending off signals so my head will bob and my hands tap. And then the similarity will kick in, the drifting of thoughts. Like in when I'm sunbathing at the beach, no matter how pleasant the prickly heat bounced off my bare back I will drift away in another dreamland: a spring-feeling field with soft, wavy grass.
My drifting of thoughts was routed in my -underconstruction- design. Amidst the pop and jazz, lines and points flew and blurred. Flew and blurred. Like castle making in disney world. Like whip cream. I went back to my room contented and pleased. And again, in my skin. Another break from from a stress-willed weeks ahead.