Sarah Abroms

I need to start this blog over. I realized that Im doing exactly what im trying not to do. what im trying not to do is write things ill regret or that will hurt me, and this post about her did exactly that. im getting over it though. its all good. go with the flow and all. dont give up just because someone led you along.

Ive really been behind lately.

Ive been really busy.
Marching band 5 days a week for 9 to 12 hours a day.
god I love it.
Im home today, sick due to dehydration. wee?
School starts next week.
Ive replaced blogging to journaling, I think its better.
Ive been doing stop motion music videos to go with covers of songs.
I got really great classes.
I love my blogger friends but i dont think ill have much time to, im already barely scraping it. When I get my laptop Im going to make a website. youll see what it is when you see it, i dont want anyone to steal my ideas or anything.
Im really tired. I wish you all luck at school.

A little rant of mine

So I'm not a writer, but every once in a while I get to something good. Here you go-

its so amazing to sit there and work for hours on end on the only thing that fuels me and then, when I get out there on the field with them, with my band its....its like it all comes together. its like....all my hard work, paying off in that moment that i cant see it, but...i can hear it, and i know weve made it, and that it was perfect. and I'm a part of it. and i know that no matter how loud I am, I wont stick out there. it all fits together perfectly to create this...effect. you start watching it and....you get....sucked in, and you feel what were playing. and we feel it. we all feel it. its like....hope, honestly. its like making hope. and you know, that if you were to ever go back and play it again for the same audience it would never be the same. and the more you play it for different audiences, the more emotion you get from it because you get a different thought every time you play it and it all pools together and then its over. just like that. and everyone will remember the feeling, but never the sound. and thats what you call, marching season.

I have new entry and a couple of edits to make on the bluestars one, to be done on a later date. hang in there through all of my misspellings and cliffs, kay?

6: Wake me up when september ends.

Part 1: The Indiana Blue Stars Drum and Bugle Corps♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

So today, Grandpa came to get Nate and I tro spend the night. We get to his house, do some honest to god yardwork, which I really miss doing. Honestly.
Anyways, We do a bit of work, then go to Steak&Shake, A long running tradition of ours that I will elaborate on later. From there, we go to the state fair grounds to watch the indiana blue stars. They were amazing last year, but this year, they literally gave me shivers. I kid you not. my Pop's got friends that he works with that write and arrange music for them, as well as direct.

The first time I saw them, I decided I wanted to be one of them some day.

This year, I'm old enough AND in the same state.

And pardon my french, But I am a damn good trumpet player.

So this year, I will be in marching band at the BEST band in the state. literally. So I will be at practices from 8am till 10pm, then I will go to work at Quizno's. i get out of band at 3 on fridays, so I'll work friday evenings and nights. I get sundays off band, and Saturday mornings, so I will work. I am going to push myself to my limit so that I don't have time to feel. So that I don't have to think of what he's done. I will push myself and become a machine. I will save up my money, and i will accomplish my dream, to be a blue star.

So the camp starts in November. I won't be a confirmed blue star until januaryish.

I will do this.
I've been struggling with reasons to hang in there. I will be able to do this every year till im 23. it will turn me into almost nothing but a Zombie sometimes, and nights will be really hard thinking about the emotion in the music and what it makes me think of. I already know what it will be. But the music...the music is what i will live for. The fact that I can play it and make others emotions race, their pulse quicken.

And I will try to be okay. Miserable at best, but....okay. I will have an outlet, and something to give in to. I will give in.

The thing about performing music is that it really does take some skill, for instruments. You can't just pick one up and play it without passion, you'll get nowhere. being in a band is like this. You hear the music, and you listen to it until you know how it makes you feel. When you play it, you think of timing, precision, accuracy. And you think of whatever it makes you feel. You give yourself over to its reverberation and timing. It's an escape from feeling and a window to it at the same time. While escaping from what's around you, you can let out pain, or anger, or become overwhelmed with joy so much that you really feel like laughing. I will do this. I will become slave to the rhythym.

Audioslave.

SONG- wake me up when september ends by greenday

5: The Quiet Things That No One Ever Knows

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠Part 1: The Agenda

So today, I had a mission from mom to finally unpack the things that have been in boxes since the divorce, almost a year ago. I started out with promisingly heavy boxes, and it turns out they were FILLED with my books. I had literally hundreds already in my room, and then I find the ones that I love but thought I'd never see again. Two one foot deep, four feet long, two feet wide boxes FILLED with books. Now i can not navigate through my bedroom for the stacks all over the floor, and I couldn't be happier with that. I love this. I'm looking at the things that make my place...well, mine. They'd been at first shoved into a mini trailer uHaul, which was sad. It's sad to shove all of your things into boxes, and think it's a lot, then watch as its shoved into a bathroom sized trailer with the things that belong to the rest of the family.
That was what we started with.
We didn't even have furniture. Now look at us. Look at where we are. We don't have a couch yet, but we have a weird piece, the title of which i'm not so sure of, that acts as a couch. We have our beds. We lack dining room chairs, but we have a nice table. We have three desks. One for each of us. We have three dressers, and one bar stool.
This is home.

♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠Part 2:Photobooth♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠ ♠
I was going through another box. I lift up a framed drawing I made with finder paints in kindergarten to find a bunch of photos from the time that you actually had to take the film to Wal-Mart to get them processed. I found some Polaroids, too. I saw a picture from when nate was in...1st grade and i was in kindergarten and he was running towards the house from the bus. The colors were so vivid. the bus was still parked, and nate's just running. It was amazing. I find one that was taken on the bench in front of our house, of mom and nate. Mom's hair is up in a clip like she does, and shes wearing a red tshirt and overalls, and nate's sitting to her right, which was the side the camera was on. She looked so happy, and she looked pretty. Nate was making one of those faces of his.
I found one of mom, just my mom. It was at an angle, a close up on her face. It was pretty. She couldn't have been but 20 years old.
There's another one of her being herself making a funny face.
There's one from when me and nate were little, and she had hair down to her lower back, and she's totally in her element. in the background you can see the wrought iron roosters above the curtain rod with pretty soft gold curtains.
There's a pretty one thats a close up on me and mom. We're outside rubbing noses like eskimoses...(that was our little jingle...)
Theres another of me and mom walking across the old bridge, the copper turning green. It's black and white.
There was a pretty one of me when I was little playing with my wonderful dog.

And, of course, one of Nate surfing on a kitchen chair making the most exuberant screaming face I've ever seen.




♠♠♠♠♠♠♠Songs:
The quiet things that no one ever knows by Brand New
Photobooth by Death Cab for Cutie

4: Love Song

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦Part 1: Head Underwater♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

So yesterday was nice. I slept the night before. I let all of that go at 5am and just slept. But now it's back. Not so bad. But what hurts is the betrayal, the lies. The fact that I'd still take him back, right now. I still miss him. I still worry for his well being. I still lost a ton of sleep last night.
♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦
I Think I can make it though. Lack of sleep is something I'm used to, and I just talked to his mom, and she said something that gave me hope. It actually literally lifted my spirits.

Even if I lose all else, I have my hope. Sure, it will get smashed down so often that it feels like physical pain. But I'm holding on to it. I don't know what I'm hoping for....yet. But I will hold on to my sense of hope and let it grow until it can't be knocked down. It will be my walls. It will be that little voice that tells me to act on an imaginative whim. It will be staring at the ceiling willing rocks to break open my window as to make a quick getaway to the person I love. It will be my pulse. It will be something people can see when they look at me, feel when they touch me. I won't back down.

SONGS-
Love song(the cure cover) by Death Cab for Cutie
Love song by Sara Barrielas