Oh yeah, common test.... Nothing quite like it, except for, well, mid-year and final-year and streaming and 'o' levels. But yeah, there's nothing quite like it. I really feel like common test is insignificant. After all that just happened in the band common test is like... just some worksheet to be done in class. After I tightened my braces, I found all the problems I had when I put them on came back. The pain, the lack of stamina, the tone, the articulation, the constipation (type of sound) and the high note struggling. Why the hell have I been in the bandroom for 6 days a week for the past eight months? And then while I reflect upon the SCH rehearsal and the fruitless sectionals, and all the horrors of getting silver and the URGING of XX XXX and XXX XXXX to beat XXXXX, on comes along this guy called Dr XXX XXXXX XXXX URGING us just like XX XXX did to do our best for common test. Oh right, my goal in life was to study hard and become rich, sorry I forgot. But amongst all this, the most amazing thing is, the moment I touch Jane, everything is gone. No more Gold Medal no more Common Test no more wasted effort. It's just me and Jane and playing that catchy tune that has been running through my head for the entire day. Maybe that's why I don't find it awkward to come down for practice everyday. Do you feel awkward if you played computer everyday? I kind of got the same feeling. I remember when I nearly failed my super easy indices test, I was gripping it so tight it tore (a little). Last period over I went to the bandroom and started practicing. There was no more indices test no more lousy math. Nothing mattered. Yes, I know, stupid, idiotic, fantastic (derived from fantasy), impossible. I wonder though, do you feel like that?
Once there was a class, and their music teacher was a professional who came to the countryside for a little escape and inspiration. Their first question was: "What is music?" And so the teacher took out her flute and sweetened the air with the playful flutters of a butterfly as a little girl skipped through the bright meadows of England. She took out her trumpet and a wave smashed against the rocky shores, the flags were raised and the majestic army emerged from their gargantuan castle, heads up, full with pride and glory. She took out her trombone and the curtain of a full moon descended. An eerie mansion stood out from the middle of nowhere. Bats infested its walls and from one sole window, a stumpy figure grinning with evil mischief. An army of the Great Empire marched out of their fortress to meet the opposition of the rebels, swords clashed under a crimson evening sky, the ground, imitating its colour. “Miss, that was beautiful, but, what is music.”
“Well, music is a person who toils day and night with his or her instrument, who has achieved perfect synchronization between flesh and material. It was beauty in its purest.”
“If so, Miss,” a voice raised from the back of the class. “What’s a band?”
posted by Joshua.
