Published Monday June 29th, 2009 from 港区, 東京, 日本. Listening to Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.5 in E flat major Op.73 - "Emperor" - 2. Adagio un poco mosso, feeling marooned.

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Tokyo and Mt. Fuji on a late May evening.

When I was younger, I used to whistle a lot--a whole lot--while listening to music; visitors thought I was a cheerful bird. It was always elating, satisfying, and made me feel really good. It served as an outlet, a way to vent life's frustrations, anxious energies, and dissatisfaction.

Somewhere, at some time, the whistling began to cease. It ceased a little, a little more, more, until it stopped. Why did I allow the cessation of such a medicinal habit?

Posted by Nomi @ 15:43, June 30, 2009
Having remembered that I am/used to be a whisltler last Saturday, I've tried to regain this old habit several times. *tweet tweet, whistle whistle*... Didn't know I'm such a birdlike person.