dedicated to whoever understands this piece of writing…………..

not needed.

that's a real lousy feeling to experience. especially when you have been needed all along. now you feel dumped. feel useless. feel helpless.

feel not needed.

ever felt this way before? let me elaborate.

all along, there's been this fun group of instrumentalists that you've been helping, out of no sinister designs, but for the sake of helping, so that they will enjoy the music they play, and appreciate the beauty of their instruments.

you've been helping out regularly, and seek not any form of recognition, not any form of appreciation. you take it as a given that you are allowed to help out.

suddenly one day, you're told that you're no longer needed. after almost four years of hard work, somebody reaps the fruits of your labour. takes this group of instrumentalists out of your care, and tells you your help is no longer needed - because you have been out of touch. for one week.

sadness is an understatement. I have come to realise, realise that what they say suddenly seems true. this music group has changed. beyond recognition. to a point whereby compassion is selective, perhaps to only a select group. love might no longer exist, apart from exceptional cases. love in its pure kind, where one another selflessly helps each other. that's pure utopian. fat hope.

rising above my sadness, I realise something that can alleviate this kind of sadness. prove me wrong. prove that I was hindering, that removing me was an astute decision. I appeal to those in charge now: show me that you all will do a better job than whatever I would ever have done. bring glory, at least let me live in peace, peace that my exile is worth the long wait. so that if, one day, when I go back again, I will witness a great change, a change that will strike me speechless with pride. I appeal to you… not only make me proud, but also all that have hopes in all of you. especially cindy, for whom I've been striving for all these years. you might not know her, but I can tell you, she lives in all the people in the part. embodies the love, the compassion in the part.

once again, prove me wrong. I think I'm a masochist. only by proving me wrong can you alleviate the pain I experience, make me feel a worthy sacrifice.

17 january 2001

1357 hrs