Marching On

Marching On Sweat dripping down my subject and butterflies fluttering around my stomach as if it was the Garden of Eden, I took in a deep breathe and asked myself: Why am I so nervous? After all, it is just the nigh exciting day of my life. When the judges announced for the Parsippany Hills High school Marching Band to commence its show, my mind blanked out and I was on the verge of losing sanity. Giant?s Stadium engulfed me, and as I pointed my prick up to the judges? stand, I equanimous my thoughts and placed my mouth into the ice-cold mouthpiece of the contrabass. Ready or not, I beamed, here comes the best show you will constantly behold.

There is no word to calculate the feeling I obtain through music. However, there is no word to imbibe the pain I suffer through in parent to be the best in the band either. When I switched my mover to tuba from flute in seventh grade, little did I know the difference it would make in the four days of high school I was soon to ...If you want to campaign a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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