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English Project: pt 2,
The Soundtrack of My Senior Year;
Take out the Gunman by Chevelle starts off my year with a thumping beat. I have everything together. I know I can make it. I know I'm gonna do good, kick butt, make it through. I feel like everything alright, POINT is going good, art seems to be flowing through me like a stream on the way to it's river and then ocean. I feel like I'm gonna beat depression to the end of the line. I feel like everything's going good for those first few months. I suck in my first few breaths, getting into the feel of it. "I woke.. Where the light hit me right in the temple.." Everything is on, from the sting of winter air to the feeling of a sun on my shoulders as I walk home every day. I feel as if I am prepared and nothing, NOTHING will take me down. "Had to shoot, had to fight... Gonna take out the gunman.."
The next few months are punctuated by cords of Something to Believe In by Young the Giant. The days are getting a little longer, headaches pressing in. I don't know what to do about much. I am struggling inside my own skin, forcing myself to go to school just so I'm not alone as I feel my brain cave under the pressure of stress. I try my hardest to be better about everything, get into exercising so that not all hope is lost, I start writing up a storm. I can't fathom being unable to write. "Realizing your a slave to your mind... Break free." The song hums away, pushing me to try and break free of that molded cage that I think is pressing around me while POINT things loom close, and Art things press closer. I don't want to have to cope, but I manage to make it through somehow.
The months closest to Christmas, I am seeing "The Red" by Chevelle. It's low melody pushes and pulls me around as it talks to me about the anger that I'm facing. School life is ever so hard, struggling to keep up with the absence make up while dealing with home life. I manage through until winter break, where I spend most my time trying to relax. When we come back, I am approaching the ends of the song, letting it release me from its rhythmic prison of, "They say freak... when you're singled out... The red, it filters through." I'm feeling pressured with my art work. I'm feeling like I'm not the person everyone is pushing me to be. I begin to worry that I am failing everyone simply by being who I am, by being who I want to be even if that means that I'm not being it for them.
The few months before the last two of the year my song is "Courageous" by Casting Crowns. I'm feeling depression linger around like a monster, like a god to my need of him. He tempts me away, trying to find that one little spot where I'll give way to his taunts. "We were warriors on the front lines, standing unafraid, now we're watchers on the sidelines, while our families slip away..." I try to let some sort of salvation save me from the way I am feeling. I am weak though, and however hard I hold onto my morals and so called high standings, I cannot stop myself from making mistakes over and over again. I cannot stop myself from feeling like I am beginning to sink down into the abyss that was calling. Nevermind school, I didn't even feel like I was functioning. "We were made to be courageous, And we're taking back the fight, We were made to be courageous, And it starts with us tonight."
In these last months, I am overcome. I am depressed. I am anxious. I am hurting. I don't know what's going on. Mom's appendix becomes inflamed. She goes to the hospital and I am left struggling to piece together any hope of normalcy which shoe horns into a worse place for me. I am feeling alone, no matter how many people are around me. "Why worry," by Set it Off thumps around. The singer asks me, "When worry is never helping, tell me why worry at all?" and while I cannot seem to come up with any logical answer, I find myself digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself. "Chin up," he sings, "Quit acting like your half dead, tears can only half feel how you're feeling." I try to trust him. I have to make it through the year. "Don't worry, be happy baby," He says, and I am inclined to try and take the advice.
© Karia FelWell
Take out the Gunman by Chevelle starts off my year with a thumping beat. I have everything together. I know I can make it. I know I'm gonna do good, kick butt, make it through. I feel like everything alright, POINT is going good, art seems to be flowing through me like a stream on the way to it's river and then ocean. I feel like I'm gonna beat depression to the end of the line. I feel like everything's going good for those first few months. I suck in my first few breaths, getting into the feel of it. "I woke.. Where the light hit me right in the temple.." Everything is on, from the sting of winter air to the feeling of a sun on my shoulders as I walk home every day. I feel as if I am prepared and nothing, NOTHING will take me down. "Had to shoot, had to fight... Gonna take out the gunman.."
The next few months are punctuated by cords of Something to Believe In by Young the Giant. The days are getting a little longer, headaches pressing in. I don't know what to do about much. I am struggling inside my own skin, forcing myself to go to school just so I'm not alone as I feel my brain cave under the pressure of stress. I try my hardest to be better about everything, get into exercising so that not all hope is lost, I start writing up a storm. I can't fathom being unable to write. "Realizing your a slave to your mind... Break free." The song hums away, pushing me to try and break free of that molded cage that I think is pressing around me while POINT things loom close, and Art things press closer. I don't want to have to cope, but I manage to make it through somehow.
The months closest to Christmas, I am seeing "The Red" by Chevelle. It's low melody pushes and pulls me around as it talks to me about the anger that I'm facing. School life is ever so hard, struggling to keep up with the absence make up while dealing with home life. I manage through until winter break, where I spend most my time trying to relax. When we come back, I am approaching the ends of the song, letting it release me from its rhythmic prison of, "They say freak... when you're singled out... The red, it filters through." I'm feeling pressured with my art work. I'm feeling like I'm not the person everyone is pushing me to be. I begin to worry that I am failing everyone simply by being who I am, by being who I want to be even if that means that I'm not being it for them.
The few months before the last two of the year my song is "Courageous" by Casting Crowns. I'm feeling depression linger around like a monster, like a god to my need of him. He tempts me away, trying to find that one little spot where I'll give way to his taunts. "We were warriors on the front lines, standing unafraid, now we're watchers on the sidelines, while our families slip away..." I try to let some sort of salvation save me from the way I am feeling. I am weak though, and however hard I hold onto my morals and so called high standings, I cannot stop myself from making mistakes over and over again. I cannot stop myself from feeling like I am beginning to sink down into the abyss that was calling. Nevermind school, I didn't even feel like I was functioning. "We were made to be courageous, And we're taking back the fight, We were made to be courageous, And it starts with us tonight."
In these last months, I am overcome. I am depressed. I am anxious. I am hurting. I don't know what's going on. Mom's appendix becomes inflamed. She goes to the hospital and I am left struggling to piece together any hope of normalcy which shoe horns into a worse place for me. I am feeling alone, no matter how many people are around me. "Why worry," by Set it Off thumps around. The singer asks me, "When worry is never helping, tell me why worry at all?" and while I cannot seem to come up with any logical answer, I find myself digging a deeper and deeper hole for myself. "Chin up," he sings, "Quit acting like your half dead, tears can only half feel how you're feeling." I try to trust him. I have to make it through the year. "Don't worry, be happy baby," He says, and I am inclined to try and take the advice.
© Karia FelWell
