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Sunday, October 11, 2015

My Own Inferno

I miss being seventeen.

When I was seventeen, I was second chair in, not just my school band, but the district-wide orchestra. I was good, and I knew it. Not necessarily cocky, but confident. Since I started playing clarinet in fifth grade, I sucked. I was last chair all the way through my sophomore year. That summer, I took lessons from my friend who was first chair. When placement came junior year, I was ecstatic! I tried out for the district orchestra (Granite Youth Symphony Orchestra) just for kicks. Only four clarinetists would make it. When I got the letter that I was one of them, I was happy to be last chair, but when I got to the first rehearsal, I was second chair!

My point... I was trying to play just now. Key word trying. I am nowhere near what I was. This is infuriating to me. I've had everything I love taken from me in some way or another. Surgeries took dance, medications took my imagination and, in turn, my ability to write my book the way I see it in my head; and now, lack of use has taken the one thing I believe I was ever truly good at.

I've said before how music is my life. I don't simply listed to it, I play it. Simply put, I am a musician. I'm on the verge of tears because I messed up while trying to play a piece that I once had mastered. Yes, I may be a bit hard on myself, but music was always the one thing that I enjoyed. I guess getting that good was a bad thing. If I had never gotten good, I would have been satisfied not perfecting anything.

Then again... seventeen is right about the time when my symptoms became incredibly noticeable. Maybe I don't want to go back to that...

"The Divine Comedy- Inferno"~ Robert W. Smith

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