Most of the time I found myself quite satisfied with the simple life we have been living. With the kid out of the nest, life is now even simpler.  I don’t have to cook so often, or if I cook, it is just for two of us, with one VIP member off my mind.

 

A crisp morning in the backyard with a book, a hike among tranquil hills, a song of my singer would normally suffice.  I am not a person who hankers over luxury or luxuriant life style, and for a long time I have been proud of myself of being a non-material woman.

 

A friend at my age shared in his moments a set of pictures and two videos from the Sunday’s “MayDay Concert” (a popular band in Taiwan, not my cup of tea). Looking through the pictures and the brief videos studded with starry lights, I can imagine how spectacular it would be to be on site for live.

 

Considered myself a pop song fan, I have never in my life been to a formal concert, always thinking that it would be a hassle or too much to go with the crazy people, singing along with their idols on the stage, loud and to tears.  Always think that I would enjoy more the moments of listening to the songs in solitude, with earphones that shut me off from the reality, when music carries me back down the time tunnel, to the old days with the nostalgia flooding all over the memory.  

 

But for once or twice, I guess life could be spent as extravagantly as going to a live concert. Squeezed amid the fans, you let yourself being carried away by the tide, echoing with exuberant crowd—your love and passion towards the music are fueled like raging fires…...

 

But will the fires eventually die down before they diminish to ashes？