Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Journal 4

The longest I have ever been away from home was this summer, when I took a week long trip to Florida followed closely by another week long trip to New Providence island. Between the two trips, I only had two days home.

In Florida, three other people and myself were housed in a tiny apartment. Despite the beautiful beaches and wonderful weather, I had begun to hate my family, after all, they had made me sleep on the couch the last four nights. I decided to read my favorite book because on top of the familial hatred I was feeling, I had started to feel normal and ordinary, and that was just too much for me to handle. After readiing that favorite book of mine, I felt wonderful again. I called a good friend of mine that evening and spent hours on the phone with him.

The next day it rained. It was a horrible thunderstorm, so me and the rest of my family decided to stay inside. That did not last very long. Within a couple hours I got so sick of them that I decided to take a walk. The wind drove the rain against my skin, and stung my arms and face. That made me smile. I walked down to the pier, and on the way back I started to sing. To my horror, my voice cracked and wailed, and kept a pitch as well as the ocean was keeping flat. I had been on a song writing strike for so long, my voice had decided to stop working.

A few days later, in the Bahamas, I was again reading my favorite book. I had bought a copy of it for that dear friend of mine, and was marking all of my favorite parts in it. Again my voice was lifted to sing, and again it tormented my ears with the comparison of how it was and how it had been only months ago. Instead of the joyful song I had started, I sang those wonderful words in the most broken hearted blues my voice could make. I was homesick, and feeling like there was nothing special about myself at all. The two of these put together were enough to make me feel that all the world was horrible. And with such feeling in my heart my pitch evened out and my tone became as pain without the jagged edges.

Though I still find myself on a song strike, my long time from home helped me keep my voice from waning completely.

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