The Melody of Me: History of Self

Assignment for 12th grade English Class

10 October 2010
Every night was the same: brain cells, repeat, mesmerize, memorize, nothing. At that time nothing was all I could fathom. I was no eternal ray of sunshine saying everything could be made from nothing and I needed nothing to live. I was what, retrospectively, speaks of the utmost absurdity, a child with no cause to act out in the fashion I was acting. The time period at the time seemed to be an eternity on sadness. Looking back I remember how music was my master, although in the end music was my savior.
Repetition: the monotony of every day being the same. All the while my demeanor decreased exponentially, finally to the extent of only wearing black, listening to depressing music, and having no joy. Reasons being vague to begin with and particularly unfathomable to remember from a distance I ceased to be a happy happy joy joy legitimate youth of the nation, I descended into depression. Through this period of detest I learned, from crib baby lullabies to current inspiration, music turned the sad sorry self of an angsty preteen to that of a mountain of gladness sprouting flowers of now.
Music’s influence has been epic. The number of friends I have made though music and that of related song interests along with those from music venues are immense. With out music I wouldn’t have met any of the choir kids, their personalities are outright awesome. Some of the funniest, contrasting, thoughtful bunch of kids I ever did meet. Merely the experiences I have gathered from that…