Project '3 x 10' - Day 11: The Longest Time.

If you said goodbye to me tonight,

There would still be music left to write..

I peeked through the crack the unclosed door made into the auditorium. I wasn't really paying attention to whatever was being taught in the drama class anyway. First of all, it was towards the end of the day, and I was mostly exhausted by then. Secondly, the class was full of ghetto kids, I swear. For instance, this dark, melancholy kid who'd talk endlessly about dragons, leprechauns, and other stuff I was absolutely uninterested in. Or this red-haired girl who'd chatter about how her ex-boyfriend was more of a drama queen than her. 

Once I thought my innocence was gone,

Now I know that happiness goes on..

The more I tried concentrating on, whatever I was supposed to be doing, the more clearly I could make out individual voices echoing inside the auditorium behind me. I stepped back, away from the crowd of kids circumscribing the teacher. I sneaked in. Gently closing the door behind me, I tried reaching for a chair from where I could be out of the view. Just then, a unison of melodious voices flooded me.

Oh, oh, oh..
For the longest time..

And I sat there. Right there. It was as though my sixth sense had been turned on, which could recognize each and every single voice apart, and still it all blended together so well. So perfectly. Each note superimposed on the other, and they projected as a newborn entity. Never had I ever experienced something so symmetric. So harmonious.

What happened next? I begged the choir teacher to let me join in even though I sucked door-knobs at singing. I had a great time being a part of a dysfunctional family where no matter how much we'd love to stab each other in the back, in the end we all were together, doing what we all loved, together.

You know what they say: Do what you love, until you can love what you do.