Madeousia™

A Hundred and Thirty-One Minutes of A Lucid Dream

       
Mozart l'Opera Rock
Jan 5th, Shanghai Culture Square
       
       
        I thought I could leave this all behind. But then if I don't say a thing, I'm gonna lose my mind.
        Days have passed. The memories start to resurface. But they have blurred, and reduced to shapes of sounds. I can't remember the exact. Chromatic lights. Heartfelt voices. Luminaries. Applause... All almost feels like a lucid dream now. A super spectacular one.
        It's the first time I ever watched a show live. And it's the first show I ever wanted to watch a show live. It showed me a way of living, and that it is possible to live. The desire for a taste of it drives me through the fear and the lack of courage.
        When at the scene, my pairs of eyes can barely capture the motion. My ears lost its way. Overflowing.
        Dive into the theatre. Watch the whole place become a house of fantasy. A dream. And a wonderland.
        Just float. Just let myself dive in, drowned, absorbed. Feel when I feel. Laugh when I laugh. Move when I move. I forget my presence and clapped, shouted, applauded.
        Surely there has been changes. Familiar ones aged, come back with more years of their lives. New faces arrived, adding new flavour to the show. The musical has grown along.
        Surely there has been flaws. Worn-out voices. Worn-out bodies. But it was fine. It had already been too fine for someone like me. On the stage, they offered the best of them. Their spirits. Their vigour. Their music. The best of their lives.
        Though it would be a lie to say that I don't miss the original recording on DVD, I love the current version as well. The night they shoot the video was just one of the thousands of nights. One slice. What I had two nights ago was also a slice of it. I shall not regret. Thousands, millions of the slices make up the whole. So one is everything and everything is one. And it's super spectacular. That will do.
        I ran as soon as possible after the finale. Not only for the big test tomorrow, or the guilt of contributing nothing to them. I couldn't bare even an extra glance back. For it would leave regrets. And I don't want any. I wanted to live recklessly, as they did.
        I fleed to home, skipping and hopping along the way,fuelled by the spirit of the show, on top of the world, in the middle of the night, in the subway stations, looking as if I was drunk.
        That single photograph taken before the opening, and the couple-minute video of the ending were everything I got from that night. On these I will live. With these I will carry on my life.

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