music teacher is retiring

Dear Diary,

I was thinking about getting shit done and then I got a message on facebook. It was a thread. Of names I didn't recognise. I scrolled to the top and it was this little kid I used to know in college. He was like in year 8 at the time of when I was in year 13. He's not a little kid anymore I should say.

Apparently our music teacher is retiring and he's planning a big shindig (his word is soiree) to see him off. I've had lots of feelings just now from thinking about it.I've got lots of feelings and thoughts going on. I'll stream of consciousness that shit:

I'm thinking about all the older guys who were in years before and I want to show them how I'm a big man now and I had grown up and became a big sixth former who made an impression on young year 7-8s when it came to my time as the 'best musician' in the school; I want to tell them all how I am a composer now (sort of) and I have got a show where my music is being performed right now and then later in the edinburgh fringe this summer; I'm thinking about how I belong to a very special group of people: that music teacher has many people who have ended up in interesting places becaause of him. I am by far the least interesting; there's my friend who works at a very special music manufacturer and then he worked at royal albert hall and chappells; there's all the jazz musicians; theres even a couple of urban grime/hiphop guys who 'graduated' from that music teacher's schooling. I am so excited. I'm thinking so much about the past. I will tell those alumni: hi, I'm the 04 leaver. I did some composing recently. I'm still playing the piano. I'm one of you.

I belonged. For once in my sad fucking life I really belonged somewhere I felt like I had a place. I felt like I was going somewhere. These feelings, these memories. They haunted me later on. It's like a power rangers reunion - I'm one of the old rangers, and I'll see older and younger rangers.

This is our forever red moment, and he was our zordon.