Just Beethoven - A Teenage Diary

Dear Diary...

Dear Diary,

It's me again.

It's been a long while since I journaled anything. But I thought that today, my thirteenth birthday, would be just as good a day as any, to jot down some of my thoughts.

Father still calls me "Little Ludi." I'm thirteen for God's sake. Almost a full-grown man.

But it doesn't matter. Even after all these months of studying with my new piano teacher, Mr. Neefe, from Chemnitz, I still can't please him. I don't know if he hates me because I remind him of Grandfather, but I can't seem to do anything right these days.

Mr. Neefe says that I could be a second  Mozart if I continue to work at my craft. Father tried to make that happen when I was younger, parading me around like some sort of circus act, but I just kept disappointing him.

I remember. Long hours of practicing scales with no food. Sometimes he hit me. I remember. Long nights locked in the cellar for missing notes.

I remember.

If only he would quit drinking, he might see more clearly and know how much I want to please him.

Oh, well. At least Mr. Neefe encourages me. There's something inside of me that I just have to let out through music. Something that connects my senses and my spirit. It's deeper than anything I can describe. One day, I'll show everyone what I'm capable of.

I'm not satisfied with just practicing my scales and arpeggios, something bigger resides inside me and I won't rest until I force my way into its innermost chambers and learn all its secrets.

I've got to run now. Father is in one of his moods and I don't want to incur the back of his hand again.

Ludwig