Music is a big part of my day. Every morning I roll out of bed humming a song that my brain had played repeatedly throughout the night. Sometimes it’s a song I was listening to while drooling on my keyboard (in an attempt to finish homework) and sometimes it’s a song my brain frantically composed to match my dreams. The song usually stays in the back of my head for the rest of the day, surfacing during awkward silences or moments that necessitate a musical track. Once I accomplish getting out of bed and preparing for school, my head is usually clear enough for worries and thoughts of the previous day flood back to drown out the music. The very first classroom that I enter is the choir room.
The choir room is a marvelous place. A piano, speakers, microphones, and sound equipment occupy about a tenth of the room. The rest of it is filled with truly amazing people and their sounds. These sounds are conversations, laughter, and random noises, but once our director, Mr. Sargent, whom we affectionately call Sarge, restores most of the order, the voices that fueled the dull roar of noises harmonize to produce magnificent sounds. What is even better than hearing the sounds is being part of it all. Hearing my voice blend and mix with those of my companions never fails to uplift my spirits. No matter what mood I was in, I laugh and smile by the end of the fifty-minute period, ready to face anything that could jump out at me during the day.
To add a bit of zest and musicality to life, I try to keep a repertoire of songs that I can sing and that people enjoy hearing. Songs that, in my opinion, many people know are the best. There is nothing better than a chorus of “Bohemian Rhapsody” or “Hakuna Matata” to yank friends out of their school-induced stupor. It’s completely beyond me, but group singing – no matter how horrible or out-of-tune – has the effect of inducing happiness. I exploit this characteristic of song for my own selfish purpose. I am loathe to see others dispirited, particularly my friends. Because of this, I find myself singing to those that need cheering. They laugh and I wonder if I’ve made a fool of myself: “Thanks for making me feel better.” “The pleasure was all mine.”
The last hours of my day should be spent in relative silence (endless homework), but I find myself listening to the melodies of guitars and the beating of drums, immersing my brain in a cascade of music. Occasionally classical geniuses such as Mozart and Vivaldi emerge from my collection of music and I pause to listen to the intricate complexity of their works. I believe that the presence of music helps keep the human soul afloat on the sea of troubles that life comes with. There is something about the sweet notes of the clarinet, the wailing of a guitar in the hands of a rock god, or the beautiful harmony of human voices that softens up life and makes it seem, well… not that bad.
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