I believe in jamming out alone. It seems as if it is a simple practice: get in your car, roll the windows down, find a deserted country highway, blast the fabulous sounds called music, and belt the lyrics as loud as possible. For the untrained eye this escape from reality is nothing extraordinary, nothing out of the norm. But in my life, it is an unquestionably necessary routine.
When I’m singing Relient K at the top of my lungs and dancing like a complete fool, nothing else fits in my head. I’m not focused on the fact that my room is a mess, that my Stats homework is sitting on the coffee table unfinished, or that what I really should be doing is filling out college applications. All the thoughts in my mind are about Matt Thiessen’s marvelous melodies, the sensational scenery outside my windows, and the smell of sweet corn that makes my heart melt. Riding around in my Vee-Dub provides a much needed break from reality – a brief intermission between worries. Everyone needs to relax once and a while to remain sane.
I also revel in the aloneness of jamming out. In my day to day life, the only times I am unaccompanied are while I shower and while I sleep. Every other waking moment involves human interaction. While I am a people person a vast majority of the time, once in a blue moon I feel the need to be by myself, the need to refocus and remember exactly what I am about. I get distracted so easily by all of the hubbub around me that I forget what my heart craves the most. Being alone blasting my music gives me the chance to be completely me. I don’t worry about who watches me break a crazy move because no one is there to see it. I don’t care who hears my weak vibrato because there are no curious ears around to hear it. Those brief moments where I am completely Emily do wonders for my psyche.
In the end, jamming out restores my peace of mind. I see my life more clearly, realizing that even if I do make a drastic mistake, I can make my life turn out just fine. The grass will continue growing if I don’t get all of my applications in by November. The leaves will still turn into their vibrant hues if the floor of my room remains hidden until the New Year. And when that moment of complete calm comes over me, I know it’s time to return home, back to my teenage duties. I know I can handle the stress again and begin to thrive. I can go back to treating people the way I ought to treat them; my focus is off myself and back onto everything and everyone surrounding me. Jamming out alone works wonders. This I believe.
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