I dislike it when trend keeps changing, resulting me to dispose my old outfits and purchase the new, trendy ones. I hate it when my friends change their boyfriends like they’re taking off their clothes. Most of all, I hate it when I have to face a totally new, foreign surrounding. The feeling of the cold air and the insecurity whenever I am walking around this new area, which I call as my new home, are bothering me. It always kills me to think how much changes I’ve been through all these years, yet I never seem to be able to accept them.

It amazes me to think that those changes are the things that will give me something that I’ve long forgotten. The foreign feelings that I’m feeling apparently aren’t new; they’re just buried deep inside me. Like most people, my eyes are either blinded or my heart just chose to forget.

Are you still playing your flute?

When there is hardly time for our love

I am feeling guilty

To be longing for your song

The melody concealed in the slim hollow of bamboo

Uncovered by the breath of an artist

Composed by his fingers

Blown by the wind

To the depth of my heart

Are you still playing your flute?

In the village so quiet and deserted

Amidst the sick rice fields

While here it has become a luxury

To spend time watching rain

Gazing at the evening rays

Collecting dew drops

Or enjoying the fragrance of flowers

Are you still playing your flute?

The more it disturbs my conscience

To be thinking of you

In the hazard of you