Luka Modric
Things could be turned into betterment after the stability of what has been keeping under torment. They think life is like a piano. You randomly play the ebony and ivory keys, which can give you a suitable symphony of sound. But each key has different whispers, unfurling melodies. One pianist has the furnished ability to learn the notes, play the sounds, and know the diagram. Then, he takes the attempt to select one after one key. To make the environment with the sake of a plea for his fleeting sorcery. Thus, one expert give everything to take an attempt, where they never fail to show any effort. One who never wished to learn a thing can not be accepted by the world. But there is one kind where they feel they can achieve everything. And the sense leads - one unexpert is playing the piano between the group of people who never heard even one melody from it. He would obviously get claps and appreciation. This is the stage of between success and failure. Then, you need to choose whether to be an expert and challenge the world. Or, try after failing with a load of experiences. The choice will lead us. Further.
I have experienced it once. The echo, the melody, the harmony. All the specific things were written by me. Someone had just stolen it. He even modified it. But the sound was exactly the same. Same like I wished it to be. While the keys had been playing and allotting endearment, my heart was rampaging for finding the source. It tore off my soul with the sweet melody. Divided into pieces and threw away. I had been vanished since then. Maybe the written notes had been playing perfectly. Instead of it, there was me burning behind each key. It was like - once he presses one key, one piece of my heart has taken behind. He took the pride and got the reward. I heard all the million claps. Together. Shut the door behind me after confirming it will never be opened. Like a dead soul. Not heartbroken. I was dead, searching for desire. Maybe one more time, to start. But grueling it was, never even let me think.
I could only capture the mistakes. When there were more counts than necessary for each note. Why were there six beats in a whole note? Not four. Why were there two for quarter and one for half? Why were the fingers not placed accordingly? 1 on D, 2 on E, 3 on F, and 4 on G. The 5th one has never been used. That's how he gained so many popularities after modifying my notes to his and achieved the spot. He was always stuck between success and failure. He never chose the path to show any sacrifice or even a single try. He every time chose the left things. Picked it up and named after his. But he got the support and acceptation, and he thought he won. The biggest failure is failing against yourself. He would never tackle it when he got to know the meaning of life after easy chase. After dancing the fingers randomly over each key, I got the melody instant. Never ever did he have the courage to try his own way. Never ever he experienced the real world inside the music. Only he had been given the praise and prize. He thought he won. And vanished from life. Took everything with him. Picked up every rhythm and ran. For him, it was the sacrifice after he showed upon. My mind still could not erase the knavery smile on his face.
Why even were his fingers trembling while playing the cords? Why even he got knocked out between switching the chords? Why do each of his attempts feel like major and minor mistakes? I can not consider myself hearing from others that I have been an all-time judger for them. That's why I chose to close my mouth until I found the suitable scope to say something. I do not care if it's too late. I might cut all the strings so that even after pressing, no sound can come. What did he wish it to be? He still wants more. Even if the minor chords are sounding painful, he is expecting it to be the happiest like majors. I can clearly give the reason he chose to play only the major. Cause he knew the minors sounded like me.