I am playing the Moonlight Sonata like a fiend. Or the QuasiUnaFantasia like a fantasy Sonata as should be said; there is no Luna Light on Lake Lucerne, not in the third movement which is the one I learn. Everyone is so tired of hearing it, and I get so tired playing it, so beautifully tired all through my fingers up my arms to my back and through and through me until there is nothing to be done because it still races in me even when I am still. It is under my eyelids while I rest, and while I rest I dream my dreams of unattainable things. It is heartbreaking. To have a hold on nothing sure and to wish I could either begin again, all over; or to wish that I could just know if I know anything; to hit the same wall over and over again and know that no one knows; to have broken myself to pieces for this at least once and not knowing what will come of it.
I need most of all a teacher again, I have known it for a year. I try to help others while I am so frustrated that there is no one to help me. Just another hand again, I would not push it away. There is nothing more we can teach you, they said. Yes you can! there is everything to learn now!! I know the letters, but how do I spell? I know the words, now teach me to sing them; or even if you never ever say a word, listen to me. Listen for me. Show me that you know too.