Listen to the tuba

in the background.

I really enjoy listening to the tuba each time the band plays the national anthem.

My classmate pointed out the tuba-ist (or tuba player?) to me and I feel happy thinking about the sound of the tuba.

I was surprised though, when I say the tuba-ist walk out of the classroom when I could hear the tuba being played.

Either the sound I enjoyed so much wasn’t the tuba or…

As it turned out, there are two tuba-ists but only one tuba.

I guess what that taught me was that what appears to be isn’t always as it seems.

Even more embarrassing was that before, I misidentified the lowest sound in the band as the trombone and kept mentioning the tuba-ist as the trombonist to my friends. While they were amused, I know that the tuba-ist would probably have felt insulted. Like calling a viola-player a violinist.

I know at one point I would have been quite insulted at having been identified as another gender. But now, lol nevermind, I’m too used to it.

‘lol nevermind’ I overuse lol and um and uh and ahs too much while messaging, I think…

I overuse the ‘I think’ and ‘I feel’ because if I don’t then, don’t you feel that the message is too strongly worded?

I break texts between sentences so I can avoid using ‘.’ because it carries this connotation of finality.

Maybe I should have tried taking Linguistics.

Maybe this and maybe that but none of this or how I text or write changes the final result – all the work is still OTOT and I might be too slow.

The guilt that is entirely self-imposed is rather silly because no one set me a goal or a deadline, I created one and the one person I report to said ‘Sounds good’.

I am guilty as a leader of doing that, trying to give freedom, but now in that position of absolute freedom I must confess that should I lead I will no longer reply ‘Sounds good’ alone.

Maybe this is a reflection of the system that I have grown up in, a system that always gave me something to follow, some kind of stable structure that would be my light in the darkness.

‘lol’ and ‘haha’ is used to break tension to try and lift the mood but are you actually laughing, or even cracking a small smile? If you are doing neither then you’re not feeling the mood but you want to change the mood. There are conversations where I wish I could transmit the physical sensation of a hug through, all I can say is ‘The next time I see you, I am going to give you a hug.’ The person laughs in reply.

Add in a little more awkwardness and then there’s that message tab on my computer that I’m not really looking forward to opening. I am kind of afraid of the reply I will get, though, sometimes a no reply is even worse.

Not only the system that I grew up in but also the system and systems that people change into, people transfer into.

I came from a sheltered system where the largest problem was being ditched for lunch. In the long run someone told me that that was inconsequential. So, if my main concern is not ditching other people during lunch, is that good or bad?

Is knowing bigger problems you can’t fix better, or not knowing at all? Some days I’d like to hide inside a bubble that has already been popped – my bubble is never coming back. Even if I were to stuff my ears with cotton and shut my eyes so tight my teeth are gritted somehow I can’t block out anything anymore. At the same time, balance this with wanting to know more so you can protect those people whom you know might get hurt, so you can protect your own self.

Going around knowing nothing and asking so many people till you get a hundred and one different stories that make it necessary to conclude that someone has got to be lying… Some days I throw my hands up in the air and tell myself that if you want to think the best of people then there must be a hundred misunderstandings.

How else can I even look at you without being so fiercely conflicted?

I thought I made peace with all of that.

Evidently, I haven’t. I thought all the problems would disappear the moment the culmination of all the events finished, once results were in the open there would be nothing more, but I was wrong.

And after I was duly alerted to the on-going now I can’t help but feel that I was happier in the blissful unknown.

It was a mistake to get involved in the first place. Throw away all the talk of regret and the people who encouraged me and that traitorous portion inside myself that allowed myself to be encouraged when I should have known better than anyone else.

But now, what?

In a moment of weakness they opened the door,


Strode down the hallway as if it were for,

Their sake not anyone else’s but that was not true.


A burst of kindness drove them to tell the brother,

Or maybe pity or amusement either reason flew.

No one cared for the motive, content or matter

just rested their piece and forgot altogether.


Then they were stuck wondering who,

if any were not speaking their own version of true.


Since everyone had a different truth,

Another’s truth became the other’s lies,

And lies blended so well

– was it a lie if their memories were different from the truth?


Who knew if they were lying, only themselves not you.





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