Something to say after all.

I thought I have nothing to say. I thought the video says it all.

Then I read Meiqi’s blog and I read Su’s blog and in the latter, my dear french horn mate said:

FORM
is temporary,
CLASS
is permanent.

Frankly speaking, it hurts. Like a pain that doesn’t really go away each time I think about it. To the extent I feel the explicit barrage of emotions trapped up in my throat. I think I could cry if I want to, but I shouldn’t.

The tear stained faces of the band. My lovely french horn juniors who have now become alumni themselves, lovingly wiping the tears off their juniors’ faces. I am proud of these people, proud of my french hornies as we used to call ourselves. Never mind I am some queer senior who pops by once in a blue moon and couldn’t remember their names for nuts. I am proud.

It actually felt nostalgic and I find myself having flashbacks of Indoor 2001. The feeling that it’s all over and there’s nothing you can do about it at all. And that perhaps was why I feel I could comprehend what the young ones were feeling on the field.

But those should be tears of glory. You know in your hearts, you tried your best, gave your all; and that is all it matters. It was a great show, really great. I was touched. Thank you.