Pri 4 Pri 5 Pri 6 Sec 1 Sec 2 Sec 3 Sec 4 Year 1

8th year of playing the trumpet. 8 years. Sigh. Would have expected a much better standard by now. I always thought that I was a good player. Guess I was wrong. I'm still as useless a trumpeter as I was 8 years ago.

There were times such as this one where I'd very much like to throw down my instrument and walk away. But that would mean I'm giving up and admitting defeat. No matter how hard I try, it seems that I can't make it. I'll never be as bright as others. Or as good as others. I'll always be the bench warmer. There only to fill up an empty slot.

There are some words that some people said that I will always remember. Words that are hurting enough to leave scars. A reminder to how underachieving I've been. How unremarkable I am. How insignificant and useless I am

I guess my fighting spirit is gone. Don't ask me why. Don't try to console me. I'm just accepting reality as it is.

No one understands me. So don't bother.