Music, the study of.

As many of you know (or don’t know), music is a pretty big part of my life. I was raised around a body of music, not necessarily because I was forced to but because I wanted to.

I was a… I was amazing, if you could put it that way. I have gifts in the area of music that others do not. By an early age, I knew this, so naturally, I became arrogant.

I developed my own strict views on music, such as what was good and what was bad. Then I classified music by those guidelines. Not much went into the “good” category.

Recently, I had done some thinking. I went back to the core. What was music? Definition #6 by “any sweet, pleasing, or harmonious sounds or sound.”

By this definition, any noise is music. Everything is music to one person or another. A sweet violin melody. The rage of two pianists. The blood-chilling scream of a murder victim.

It could be the din in a mall, or the crashing of plates against the ceramic floor. Birds chirping. Keyboards clacking. Feet shuffling. Fingers cracking. Horses galloping.

Everything is music in some form.

And if it’s not, well…

It could be turned into it.


I’ve been so swamped with finals and subsequent relaxing that I haven’t been able to keep good track of my thoughts. So I’ll throw down some ideas that I remember have crossed my mind in the recent past:

I like that Dove doesn’t use anorexic women in their commercials. I remember recently when they had an anti-toothpick-women-in-advertising campaign (to put it bluntly). I like that they’re following through with it.

Anger is, more often than not, fruitless.

Age is just a number. People mature in different rates.

College isn’t always the way to go. Of my four aunts, two uncles and my mom  (all from my mom’s side), only one of them went to college and that one uncle is making the least amount of money of them all.

/end total brain function


I’m honestly like, so sad right now. The seniors are leaving! Wahhhh.

This year would have been terrible if not for the seniors. My classes would have been boring, and I wouldn’t have had anybody to look up to.

I’m so immature. I can’t go through any one situation without asking someone for guidance or help. And this year, it had been a certain few that I kept pestering with questions about things.

We’re going to be seniors next year! Ahh! Responsibility! Elder-ness! Maturity! Stuff I lack.


I’m dismayed to the point where I can think of no words (except “dismayed” ) to express my feeling at this moment.

I wish I could turn back the clock to October. and play over and over and over and over.

I’m scared for next year.


And to seniors of Russian IV: I will miss you the most. Alex and I will never forget the days we listen to the rest of you argue over petty things. It honestly makes my day sometimes.

Schools is going to be so empty next year.