Take Me.

"Life inside the music box ain't easy;

The mallots hit the gears are always turning,

And everyone inside the mechanism

Is yearning to get out,

And sing another melody completely...

So different from the one they're always singing.

I close my eyes and think that i have found me,

But then i feel mortality sorround.

I want to sing another melody,

So different from the one i always sing."

- Music Box, Regina Spektor

"Allyson. I hurt."

It's weekends like this I hate being so far far from people I care so much about. All I have to offer is words. Usually words are enough for me. I love words. However, I feel so helpless over the phone. I want to offer my presence as a means of comfort, not just words.

I hurt, because she hurts.

My instant "fix the situation" mode has kicked in, and so sitting here at my desk helpless, while she sits hours away does no good. There's a passage I want to post here, but I cannot find my little book of passages I hold close to my heart. Therefore, if you're reading this, I will text you this passage because I am not the only one that loves you.

There are two more parts to this blog.

One. A few weeks ago, the MVL choir sang at the church I attend. This was weird for me, because it's the first time I had seen another school do their Sunday program at a church since I had been in high school. I was excited, and it was all very good.... but it was weird. They sang five songs before the sermon, and then they left. Literally... they left the building. This strikes me as so odd, because of the routine that was pounded into my head throughout my high school choir days. We sang throughout the whole service, delivered the readings, sang the psalm, and stayed to greet before and after each service. (I like our way better) Anyway, they sang one song that I particularly enjoyed. Upon This Rock.

Finally, in band we were given two new, more meaningful pieces the other day to play for the part of our concert in which we remember a guy who survived the Hiroshima bombing. Or something like that, please don't be offended that I didn't listen to the whole story. As soon as my director mentioned Hiroshima my mind was immediately singing Ben Folds.

(The song he writes entirely about falling of the stage at a concert in Hiroshima. It's hilarious...)

Anyway, one of the songs was Salvation Is Created. Now, this is a very large piece to tackle. Not because of it's difficultly, just because it has so much power behind it, and you have to be careful not to damage it's flawless melody. It's particularly close to French Horn player's hearts. I got third part this time around, which was odd because the second horn part is cemented in my head, but I was okay with this. The girl who sits next to me (which happens to be the only person in my section with whom I enjoy talking), had the same reaction as I. Utter joy, and yet much hesitation. We both had such strong memories associated with this piece, we didn't want to beat those down.

So, we played the song a few times, and all I could think about is Vanguard. ALL I could think about. For some reason, this mental image of the percussion section with their hats off, heads bowed, and drum sticks crossed and rested in front of them flooded my mind. This mental image of the band in their semicircle formation, brass blaring out, while the crowd dared not to make a sound just took over my being. This was like, my childhood.

So, when we finished the song, and the girl next to me wiped her eyes and said, "Sorry, this song makes me cry." I replied with, "No, I completely understand. Completely understand." I assured her my mom cries every time too.

And at that moment, as she wiped her eyes and I let my goosebumps settle, I felt I had reached a deeper friendship with her. Some place I don't even know if I've been able to venture with many people I call my closest friends here.

Powerful thing, music is.

Rad: The fact that this same girl was wearing a Threadless T-shirt. I thought it was, but I wasn't positive, so I simply asked where she got her shirt. She replied with Threadless, and I had a major geek-out moment.

Unrad: The impersonality of virtual hugs.

Oh, we decided to play the other song instead of Salvation. This is an okay thing. The other one has a quite obvious, beautiful horn part as well. And less memories. Good stuff, folks.

Edit: Holy man. I read over this blog a few hours later and found so many grammatical errors. Sorry bud.