A Journey

by - 2/03/2011

It will come.

It's a long way off, far and away, barely a conscious thought.

Days whoosh past in blurs of light, sound, color.
But still, there is time.
Time to prepare.

Distraction is plentiful, focus is scarce.
Anxiety is pushed away, slipped out of sight.

Time quickens its pace; days turn to weeks.

Four simple words -- "five days from now".
A pregnant weight pressed on the chest.

Sacrificing generations of slumber.

The penultimate night:
Time is far gone.
Nothing more can be done.

Eyes lay open for never ending moments
Fearing the day to come.
Sleep -- at last. Punctuated by troublesome dreams.

Knowing full-well that destruction is fast approaching -- and walking toward it --
The strangest of feelings.
The desire to run disappears.
For once time slows down, every step seems to echo the words
"This is the end, this is the end."

A hand reaches for the doorknob.
Fear leaves.
In its place: Defeat. Grim acceptance.


That, in a nutshell, was my attempt at being theatrical and telling the {dramatized} story of my life the past few weeks. The big event? My first test in the hardest class known to man Music History.  Let's just say, it was rough. But once I walked through that door and actually got the test, it wasn't as bad as I had built it up to be. Trust me though, the moments leading up to it were awful. And all my fault. I procrastinated studying even though I knew about the test so far in advance.  Ridiculous. I'm not going through that again. Next time, I'll study from day 1. I've learned my lesson.


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