For Every Notes That Touched My Soul

If it was so true that peaceful comes in many forms in life, some say in the eyes of their children, some say from the silence of the surrounding, while some say it's the ambience. While others found them in every forms of way, i discovered mine at the very young age of five. I was sitting in a chair in my parent's room where my mother was busy mopping while playing Richard Claiderman in the background. In the first volume of my diary, I wrote every single peaceful thoughts that comes to mind. That was the time I realise that each notes touched my soul and I enjoyed every inch of the music while I wrote with my kiddish handwriting in my diary. Although it was far beyond my expectation that my passion for music would last till I grew, my regrets was not to let my mother knew that side of me. However, I knew she knew, as I was five we received an Organ from my aunt and though it sounded rash and annoying but I enjoyed each key the organ makes. My brother hated it, as it was annoying since I never actually learned how to play them. So the precious instrument was set to the side of the hall, covered in dust for years and years and for passing seasons and occasions.
In the curiosity of mind, I went to touch the organ with my bare fingers, my heart sunk to the amount of dust that has covered it. A form of sadness fills my heart and that brought regrets after that. Nobody knew that side of me, the side of me who believes more in arts than it logic. Everybody seems to think of my passion as a form of my new interest that soon will wither through time, like the toys I've bought and played for a few days and than was set aside after I've done with them. However, I didn't believe that, yet through time, I began to believe them myself and though my heart would jump at the sound of a music instrument, I let them drown again. Soon I realise, my passion was more for arts than in logic's, I couldn't hid them from myself neither should I hid them from the people I love.
Hence, I sat at the corner of my room by the window and began to search for a closure or an epiphany. My thoughts was wondering through the sky. I slowly venture myself into the world of arts when I had the chances. My mother gifted me an acoustic guitar at 14 and I played each string until I enjoyed the sound of it and learn new chords bit by bit. At the age of 19 I joined school dance club to slowly find myself, that part of me that yearns to learn about arts than any logic education my father was hoping I was taking. Do you sense the tranquility of the moment when you listen to the music?