(no subject)
Wordless is my soul tonight,
but screaming is my mind,
I have so many choices to make,
some break my heart, and others theirs,
I sit here thinking,
Tears already down my cheek,
hand to my face to wipe them away.
I haven't wrote in a while, guess it is the way I am though. I just never have the strength to mentally because I usally end up crying and not wanting to go on. But tonight is different. Maybe because I am trying to find the old me, not the one who goes to ESF but the one whose dream was to be on the 100 degree field in front of thousands with the focus drawing in. Waiting for the drop in the drum majors arm to sign the beginning of what drove my life from high school.
I really want to go back into it. I miss the feel of taking a drum off after a 8 hour day. I miss the feeling of the rifle landing on the broke in piece of glove that once was padded. It is Work that was full of laughter and the tears were stress but all are feeling.
Driving the beat farther as the horns begin the ascend of notes that bring the crowd to their feet. I miss the unity of everyone having the same goal.
I miss the feeling of the crowd screaming as the feet stop and all goes quiet of the field and the pride is pouring out like, something that someone like I have not felt before. The rush of strength that stands out and says to the eyes of the crowd, "Look here, I am the subject, everything else is minute, I am the drive, this is my gear."
Soon I hope to come back, playing quicker and catching and challenging myself more. Letting the music drive me and my feet moving one step closer to the field. Pulling myself away from what I am know and back to my roots. Make it simple and build as my band teacher used to say.
Tears lead to memories,
the end of roads with friends,
the start of something new.
Hoping for a chance to cross a path that faded but never has overgrown my soul,
for my soul strives for a tune and my mind is driving.
but screaming is my mind,
I have so many choices to make,
some break my heart, and others theirs,
I sit here thinking,
Tears already down my cheek,
hand to my face to wipe them away.
I haven't wrote in a while, guess it is the way I am though. I just never have the strength to mentally because I usally end up crying and not wanting to go on. But tonight is different. Maybe because I am trying to find the old me, not the one who goes to ESF but the one whose dream was to be on the 100 degree field in front of thousands with the focus drawing in. Waiting for the drop in the drum majors arm to sign the beginning of what drove my life from high school.
I really want to go back into it. I miss the feel of taking a drum off after a 8 hour day. I miss the feeling of the rifle landing on the broke in piece of glove that once was padded. It is Work that was full of laughter and the tears were stress but all are feeling.
Driving the beat farther as the horns begin the ascend of notes that bring the crowd to their feet. I miss the unity of everyone having the same goal.
I miss the feeling of the crowd screaming as the feet stop and all goes quiet of the field and the pride is pouring out like, something that someone like I have not felt before. The rush of strength that stands out and says to the eyes of the crowd, "Look here, I am the subject, everything else is minute, I am the drive, this is my gear."
Soon I hope to come back, playing quicker and catching and challenging myself more. Letting the music drive me and my feet moving one step closer to the field. Pulling myself away from what I am know and back to my roots. Make it simple and build as my band teacher used to say.
Tears lead to memories,
the end of roads with friends,
the start of something new.
Hoping for a chance to cross a path that faded but never has overgrown my soul,
for my soul strives for a tune and my mind is driving.