Content

D’:

2011/04/09

I had yearned for several months to get into John Lill Music Centre and find someone who could guide me on the drums. I remember I had taken a vid right outside John Lill, where I expressed my yearning.

Today, the doors of John Lill were wide open. I wondered why… since yesterday was the start of break. I didn’t hesitate much — I went right in.

Whilst I was in there, I heard someone drumming. I wanted to go and take a look, but I was afraid. So I trod silently on the floor and hoped he wouldn’t hear me. But he soon had a phone call, and he was about to go outside. I hid behind the door.

The person playing the drums was in fact a lecturer named Lee, one who would help a friend and I set up a music division for the Arts and Entertainment Society. I smiled. It was good to see him again! I last saw him in November…

For a while, we talked about the music division, as well as the rooms we were going to use. The room I was in is used every Saturday for band practice, but there were quite a few other places to explore. I felt it was alright.

Halfway through the conversation, I stared at the drum kit.

Had no one or nothing stopped me, I’d have played once again.

And at least, I felt, there’d be someone to correct my every slip.

But not long after, one of his bandmates came. I wondered if I could stay in and watch… but I had to be turned down. They were about to rehearse for a recording session, so I relented. I told them how I used to hear them practise from time to time… just across the road. I looked at Lee once more and left. The other two of his bandmates came in when I was about to open the door, so I held the door for them before making my way back to Chapman Hall.

It pains me to think that I was there, just a metre or two away from my favourite instrument, and yet, I never got to play. I’d love to keep hoping that there’ll be a next time, but I don’t know 1) when it’ll come, 2) if it’ll ever come. I felt quite sad, but now I could just cry.

Battering my pillow nearly every day doesn’t help much. Sure, it takes some of the tension away, but all the same, I’ve yearned to actually play (and play well, of course), but I never could show people who I really am inside, even people close to home, because all I saw them do was tear at my broken heart with an acidic remark which I might never forget. And when I’m here, starting afresh, hoping that I’d get another chance, that chance is denied me.

They say beggars can’t be choosers. Well, as far as this situation is concerned, I am a beggar indeed. T_T One thing I hoped to get on my birthday (or towards it) was someone to guide me as I played. Three days more. Will it ever come? From the look of things, no. I can always hope against all hope…

My dear friend wanted to see me play the drums since 2006/7, I think. Five years on, she asks me again, “Please play for us?” and the only response I can give her is this…

 

“I wish I could. T_T”

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