The tale of Lung and me is a journey that began in our childhood in Wageningen, where fate brought together two souls from different corners of the world. Lung, an immigrant from China, and I, hailing from Indonesia, found each other at the tender age of six. Our connection transcended borders, creating a bond that would shape our lives in profound ways.
We shared more than just the same flat building; we shared dreams, laughter, and an unspoken understanding that made us inseparable. As we navigated the tumultuous waters of adolescence, our shared love for music, particularly the guitar, became a beacon of solace.
Our guitars, often poor in quality, were our canvas. Lung and I, like brothers, would spend countless hours refining these instruments, turning them from mere strings and wood into something playable, something that echoed our passion for music. The name "Lung" itself pays homage to my dearest friend, a constant reminder of the beautiful melodies we created together.
The memories of those days linger, especially when I recall the pain in the fingertips from hours of playing and adjusting our humble guitars. Yet, in that pain, there was joy – the joy of creation, of shared dreams, and of a friendship that knew no bounds.
Lung, my best friend, is no longer with us, but his spirit lives on in every chord, every strum, and every note. The ache of his absence is felt daily, a testament to the impact he had on my life. Though he is gone, the echoes of our music continue to resonate, a tribute to a friendship that transcended time and space. I miss you every day, Lung, my musical companion, and my dearest friend.
