27 September 2012
My heartbeat. That's the only sound in the dead silent auditorium. It feels as if everyone could hear my heart beating as I walked up, and griped the microphone. All of a sudden, music started to swell all around me. This was it, I had dreamed about this moment, in my dream, my part had come and gone, i had missed my cue;this wasn't going to happen now.
When my part came, I sang as loud as I could muster, which was little. Still, it took me a while to relise that I had begun early, and that I was a few measures ahead. But Geneva caught me, she skipped three measures so nobody except us had noticed it. This, right here, is my favorite thing to do. Sing. My passion, my life. Singing to me, as my passion, it means to love something so much, that you could live your entire life and only do that. Which I could, if you locked me in solitary confinement, i would spend the entire time singing.
Those were my last thoughts.
Opuss № I