First Love

Seems like recently all I do is blog about my dreams. Kinda fun to read back on dreams I've had though.

Last night I had a dream; my dad sold my Electone and guitar to my neighbour, I believe. Years passed and one day we had a visit to this neighbour of mine, who had moved to a faraway place by then.

Upon arriving at his house, I asked where'd the instruments I'd sold him gone to. He pointed to a dark corner and there was my guitar there covered in dust. I picked it up, brushed off the dust and strummed a chord. I remembered I'd felt so happy just then. Like a reunion, an ethereal embrace.

I understand why some people cannot part with their guitars. The instrument you've spent years playing with brings out something in your soul; it bonds with your will to express, and the result is something another guitar will never be able to emulate.

Did you understand that? Ah, there I go again. Time for class now.