When I took my speech class in high school I had a project where we were supposed to bring an item that represented something we were passionate about. The item I chose to bring was an iPod representing how much I love music.
Now the teacher told me that the iPod was something you could have every day at school in your backpack or something so it wasn’t good enough for the project. He wanted me to bring something, I thought, that would require planning and wasn’t a last minute item you bring to the front of the class. Little did he know, when I went home and seriously thought about the thing I’m most passionate about in life, I thought of music. I didn’t even own an iPod at the time. I borrowed my friend’s because it was the best item I thought to reflect me. So the next day I tried again and I didn’t have as much time to think about what I wanted to bring so I just brought a signed poster of some track runner I had laying around.
Oh he loved that one. He was like “see this is what I’m talking about. This is what I meant when I wanted you to bring something to reflect you.” Thats when I realized that he was trying to force his opinions of me on me. He didn’t know how much music meant to me, but he knew I was good at track. He knew my whole family was involved in track, so to him that means track is my number one passion and if I bring in anything else I didn’t put effort into it. He was telling me that he thinks that track is more important to me than music. That man really thought that I’m more passionate about track than I am about music.
Looking back I should have said something to him once I realized what he was doing. I should have told that man that he need to sit the fuck down with his opinionated ass because he don’t know me. If you think I care about this little piece of paper with some girls signature I barely even know about more than I care about music you obviously don’t know me at all.
I wish that motherfucker knew I really don’t care about track like that, but music is the thing that gets me through life. I’m sitting at home for the summer and I can feel the low energy, the depression close by, I can feel it. I’m trying so hard to listen to myself and give myself what I need so I can be happy and pleasant and kind to my family because I love them. When I’m in a bad mood, I have an attitude and I’m mean. I don’t like being mean to my family. They’re too good for that.
I’m trying to do everything I know to do raise my energy. I went to do yoga on Sunday, I started playing music, I called every man in my phone book. Either nothing is working out or nothing is lasting for long. So today I’m at home by myself and I decide to play some music like I’ve been doing the past couple days, but today I decide to hook it up to the big speaker. Ohhh my godd it made me so happy. Blasting the music, it scared my neighbor but it made me happy. I could feel it in my soul. This was the happiest I’ve been all summer. Just screaming the lyrics, dancing by myself, letting the music control my energy.
I thought about how easy it was for music to uplift my spirits and I thought back to that day in high school. I don’t forget it. I wish I could, but I don’t forget it. He really thought I was bullshitting about how powerful music is to me. He really didn’t understand how important music is to my life. I’m over here barely wanting to do anything, don’t want to talk to nobody, and then I put on music and my whole mood changes.
How dare you try to tell me who I am. How dare you try to force me to conform to what you think I am. No sir I am who I am and you can’t change me. Music is my life my soul my spirit. I don’t know how many people say that and they’re not serious about it, but me, I’m for real. Maybe all the others need music to survive like me, who knows. All I know is that nobody else but me matters. The only persons life I know about is mine and I know 100% without a doubt music is my passion.