Yesterday, I attended the Voca People performance, though I must admit it’s not my cup of tea, and I don’t buy into the idea that “music is life.” The show, in my opinion, fell short, lacking depth and deserving a nearly failing grade.

Had I not been with my mother, I likely would have left early on. But rather than delving into a detailed critique of their performance, choreography, and music, I find myself reflecting more on the visceral experience of being there.

It struck me how we often fill ourselves with superficial and readily available things, driven by a perceived need to live and experience, fearing the sadness and grief that comes with a lack of such moments. It’s a curious phenomenon, easily succumbing to what’s convenient, inexpensive, and trendy.

During the performance, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being inundated with a metaphorical concoction of slime and junk, akin to consuming spoiled food that symbolizes a form of living death. The air felt stagnant, and there was an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

I couldn’t help but wonder, how much longer, Father? Will the desires of man’s eyes continue to lead him astray? Is there a path for him to draw near to you, to fill his soul and spirit with a genuine experience? Could he taste the true essence of your garden, living and not merely existing, creating a semblance of heaven on earth here and now?

original:

Yesterday I went to see the performance of Voca People.

I do not like Voca People and I do not believe that “music is life”. The performance was of a sub-level, shallow, receiving a grade of almost failed.

If I was not with my mother I would have left already near the start.

I can easily write about my artistic criticism of their performance, choreography, and music. But I would focus myself not on the “show”, but what I felt when I was there.

Oh’ how we fill ourselves slime and junk. As we feel the need to live, and to experiences, for without them we feel the sadness and grief of death. All are welcome.

How easily we fill ourselves with what we have handy, the cheapest and the fashionable.

I felt nausea and ill all over from the spoiled food that is living death. Fillings of stagnated air and emptiness.

How long more Father? Will the lust of man’s eyes guide him. But should he drew near to you to fill his soul and spirit. And will be ready to taste from the real experience of your garden, and will live and not die and will be living in heaven on earth here and now.