The Sanity to My Day
As my eyes close and my sense of the real world dulls, my reality in time stops. The music blaring in my eardrums; not yet causing hearing damage. With each step I take, my sense of what it all was, is, and will be loses me. I am no longer here or there. I am gone. Lost in the rhythm and beat. Lost in the sea of madness. Covered and comforted by the melodies; stringing a story for the Gods. I have descended into the deep pits of despair and ascended to the heights of redemption; losing my grip on the reality of which I call sanity. How I dare gain some slim bit of control of myself? How I dare reimagine myself as a warrior, fighter among those yet still lost. Lost in the Stringy, gooey mess of life.
Today was a rough day. After almost failing a test, stumbling over new marching band drill, and being blindsided with reality, I have officially unofficially decided to take life by the reins and let them go. For one or maybe two hours. That’s all I need. One to two hours of complete and utter loss of reality. No connection to anyone, anything, or any current problem.
Once the music starts, my sanity falls. I am detached. Yet somehow I feel like I’m connected to everything. My senses are heightened. Filled with the musty air of the sun room in which I stride back and forth. Filled with the music pounding in my ears; creating the beat for which I tap to. Filled with the desperation and love pounded into each chord of the progression. Filled to the brim with the defeated lost cause of feeling weightless. I can’t help but feel the words and notes course through my veins. Enter my mind and leave through my fingertips.
I may be no professional dancer. But at this point, that fact doesn’t matter. I need this. I need to feel something worth living for. This is my ecstasy. I’m addicted and I’m afraid I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to lose this feeling I get when the harmony hits and pattern of chords play. The feeling of being on cloud nine and being high off weed doesn’t compare to the emotional outburst and passion I grow to love in the musical number. Swinging my arms, leaping into the air, and tapping my feet; I lose sight of the road made for me. In its place takes the scene of wonder, stories of the untold, and the desire to be free.
As I’m swinging my arms, tapping my feet, and moving to the rhythm a faint murmur of my name collides with my music. Another 2 seconds later and I know it’s for me once I hear the faint sound of my impatient mother once again. So I take out my headphones and look her way towards the dining room with a defeated look.
“ Yes, mom?”
“Dinner is ready.”
She gives a warm smile and leaves to plate the steaming food which just came from the still warm oven as we all sit to eat and talk about our day. There I sit eating a steaming plate of pasta, eagerly awaiting the next chance I can fly and depart from my sanity once more.