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Monday, October 28, 2002
Sometimes I hear things in my head. No, not the paranoid delusion type of things. More like the echoes of expectations that failed to materialize. Like a few times this year, when I've been on the field, marching, at the climax of the song I'd hear a sudden cheer and thunderous applause from the audience, but, looking up, I would realize I'd only imagined it. That didn't happen at all last year. There's something amazing about our sound and energy which makes me expect football fans to get up and cheer.
Sometimes, too, I hear the sound of weeping in my head, people sobbing uncontrollably. Tonight it happened when I was walking back to my room along the rain-slick field, singing to myself, because I was alone and it was night and I could. The weeping wove itself in among the lyrics, and in my head I saw people dancing slowly, sadly in a circle around something that I couldn't see. They danced to a different music than the song I was singing, and I don't know if it was them who were crying but their dance formed the background to the tears.
No, I'm not delusional, I just have an overactive imagination. But what is it about this semester that creates the expectation of tears?
