Her topic is music and how she can relate to it so much and stuff.
I know it’s wrong to pass someone else’s work, but she asked me for help and she has a lot of other shit on her plate.
SHE’S ALSO ONE OF THE GREATEST PEOPLE I MET IN HIGH SCHOOL THAT KEPT ME FROM OFF-ING MYSELF. So yea, I failed her and gave this three-paged ramble. She said she loves it and it really looks like she wrote it. The next day, she messaged me on Facebook telling that her professor read it out loud. Oh dear god.
NOTE: You will see my point about limbo and overthinking in this essay. Just look on how messed up and unconnected that crap is.
Press “Play” to Eject
“Take me away, a secret place. A sweet escape, take me away. Take me away to better days. Take me away, a hiding place.” – Pocket Full of Sunshine, Natasha Beddingfield
Do you ever get that moment where you feel so sad that you just want to lock yourself in a room, turn up the music and cry? Once in our lives, we do. And that’s fine. Well, how about those days where you look in the sky, put your headphones on, and happily skip the hell to school? You know those days. Sometimes, you choose the music that goes with your mood, but most of the times, the music does the choosing. Amazing isn’t it? You can’t even see or feel it yet, it can predict what you’re going to feel like.
One of the amazing wonders of music.
When I’m alone, I always imagine. I don’t think, I imagine. There’s a huge difference between the two. However, that is not my topic in this essay. What I’m about to talk about for the next 798 words or more is how I imagine things when I’m alone and how I use music as an outlet to get back in my comfort zone.
When I think, I don’t just think and remember stuff by myself, I wander off. I go to places I would like to be to and situation where I could do what I want or things I could’ve done instead of what I actually did. But most of the times, I think of the future; of what might be. What might become of me, my job, my family, friends and all that. Then I start to overthink, I start to wander off some more. I let my subconscious self take over. I am now in places and thoughts beyond my control. And then I begin to question, why? Why is it like this? Why is this like that? Why? Why? Why?
At the end of the day, I have to admit to myself that all these is a product of one thing, fear. To be more specific, fear of the unknown. As humans, we are programed to always be curious. Of course, we don’t know anything. And I once read somewhere, “Knowledge is power.” If curiosity kills a cat well I think asking is a sure ticket to being murdered. So instead of asking people, I ask myself. And I hate myself for that. Because I always do that and I always end up in one place: nowhere.
I couldn’t get a grip; couldn’t get my shit together. It’s like I’m in an endless limbo. And I am letting myself enjoy it. Most of the times, I snap it off. Breathe. Go outside and BE NORMAL. But sometimes, I dive in the sea of confusion and worry, full on armour. And by armour I mean my phone and earphones.
I put my headphones on and I’m in another world. I’m in the worry-less world but I still know I have things to worry about. It’s like, being in a party and having fun but you’re wearing that backpack full of BS of your own life. I try. I try to snap out of it but sometimes it’s just too hard. Just too hard to escape the thoughts, the worries. Too hard to escape, from myself.
So instead, I try to live with it.
However, running from my fears won’t make me live. Living in them isn’t living at all, either. So what I do is I solve them. But before that, I have to be happy first. Happy people solve problems faster than average. I watched it in a YouTube video once.
Comfort zone. A place or situation where one feels safe or at ease and without stress. MY happy place. Now, that’s very simple. My happy place is any place that has my phone and earphones in it. On it. In it? On? In? I don’t really care about grammar at this point, this essay just got excited.
How can I begin describing the best thing on earth? They say you are what you eat, I can’t be the best thing on earth because I can’t eat music. Even if I tried. I want to be free from my own thoughts. And I can’t do that. I want to solve my problems. That, I can do. I want to be happier. Possible. But what will be the outlet of my feelings? Yes, music. Dur.
In every genre people play, a different mood sets in. But with me, it’s different. Whatever genre I play, as long as it’s music, I’m in a good place. Why? Let me tell you why. I feel that, in a way, the song I play is my story. It speaks the truth I dare not to reveal to the world. It says exactly how I feel, like words taken from my mouth. It’s the companion I have when my eyes are closed and I’m in this never-ending road to the unknown. It’s the only thing I have that cannot be taken away from me even if they tried.
Because it lives inside me. I feed off it.
Obviously, I’ve lost track of what I’m talking about at the beginning of the essay. See my point earlier? Even in writing I could be lost. I could be taken over the random stuff that’s popping in my mind. But let me try to pick up the pieces and be back.
Let’s start again.
Whenever I’m alone, I tend to think a lot. I think about my future and then overthink. Then I start to question stuff. Asking for reasons and why things are as is. Then I realize my fear of the unknown. And how curious I am. Then I am nowhere. I try to fix my problems because I don’t want to worry anymore. But before anything else, I must be happy first, and that is that music does to me. It brings me happiness.
I’m not the kind of person who has this person that I can always call when I’m having a bad day. But I do have this one thing that I can always count on making me feel better. I think we all know what that is, at this time. Earlier I talked about music and outlets and stuff. Well, I write my own songs. This is the part where you shake your head because a part of this essay finally makes sense. I forgot which part, go figure.
My band is a huge help in this part for they are one with me in this topic. They make me happy because they are the constant reminder that I’m not alone with this music thing. That there are people like me. We all have parts here, I play the guitar. And when we go to gigs and concerts or summat, I feel so alive. Like, all the blood running through my veins are high and alive. My favourite happy place.
I usually don’t have a favourite type of music because music is music, ya know? But if I do have to choose one, it would definitely be rock. Because it has its own variations. Like a whole new set of kinds of music within a kind of music. Like everything else in encapsulated this genre.
Maybe I am not perfect, and I have my own bag of bull inside my head. And it’s fine. Makes me sure that I’m normal. And that I’m just as sane as everyone else. Music being my comfort zone is cool, too. It shows that I’m the kind of girl who doesn’t need a guy by her side. Because I know how to dance myself. It shows that I am independent. Strong.
And by music, I now just realized, I know there are people like me. I know someone understands me; knows how I feel, thinks the way I do, share the same experiences as mine. I realized that I am not too weird for my own kind. Or too emo. (Well, maybe I can be sappy dramatic, but I’m NOT too emo. One cannot be too emo even if they tried.) I realized that I am human.
So…. That’s me. My worries and thoughts. I just discussed, ever so eloquently, my opinions and comfort zone and everything in between. Now I’m gonna ask you. What’s your view on this?
what the actual fuck is this crap