In the Mandarin Singing Contest, I have been an audience under the stage, the organizer behind the stage, and a singer on the stage. This time, I am to be a guest performer. The last time I touch that gigantic instrument of mine was two years ago. It is now covered in dust, with a weird, uneven tune for it has not been toned for too long. I know I am estranged with the skills. When I cleared off the dust, put on the fake nails and played a few little pieces of music on it, I could feel my hands being too tight and nervous.
I could have refused to attend as a guest, but I did not. For so long I wanted to hide this talent of mine because I did not want to be thought of as a show-off. However, in the past three years, I slowly came to a realization that I should not care too much about what others think. Instead, I should be able to do whatever I want, and whatever I think is right. In this case, I want to cease this opportunity to perform. For all I know, this might by the last time I play on stage ever. I think of this performance as a way of saying goodbye to the days I played. Maybe this sounds cheesy and senseless, but for me, it is throwing away a big part of my past.
On stage, I felt my hands ran out of control, and quite a few notes were played wrong. In the end, my arms were so sore that I could barely push the song to its climax. I was not as good as I were five years ago, when I used to practice more than three hours every day. Practice makes perfect! The thought hit me hard when I was playing. However, when I finished my last note, everyone clapped and cheered. It comforted me. The feeling of being in the spot light and appreciated was so nice. I am ashamed to say that I miss it, I miss it a lot. I hardly feel this way anymore. However, now that I finished my last performance, I must develop something else worthy of myself to get the applaud I deserve. Of course, using the same strategy—practice.
May my effort will pay off soon in the future.