It rained today and I raged in class. And now, in the aftermath, there is only nostalgia. Listening to Shapiro and various other cellists, I miss my warm full-bodied cello. (I say this because my cello was stolen, and I currently use an electric cello - which is not the same) I think I took for granted all those moments that I hid behind my cello during concerts, in practice, to take a rest, to cry, to disappear for a moment (ostrich in the sand, yes yes). I hope one day I can find my cello of the woods again.
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