Perfectly Broken

Perfectly Broken
Upon entering my room one may wonder why I have garbage up on my wall. I do not put rags or
rotting food on my wall. However, many people believe that what I have up there is garbage. It is a broken
cylinder of wood, splintered in the center, pieced together from two, that before was one, but would never
quite be one again. The violent act of destroying it is why I hold it so dearly to me. It was that moment I
knew that my life would never be the same. At that time I knew that what I had in front of me would
forever change my life. When I saw the shattered frame of wood that lay on my drum set I realized that
this would be the guiding light for the rest of my life. I was a drummer, I loved it, and I was proud.
This happened about three years ago, in the beginning of my year in eighth grade. I had a friend
who had played the drums, and I always enjoyed going to his house and messing around on his drum set.
When he told me he wasn't playing anymore, I saw it as an excellent opportunity. He let me borrow his set
until I could get one of my own. When I got it in my house I was so thrilled I played it for hours. I feel
sorry for my parents who had to listen to me before I had any lessons or practice. Whether I was good or
bad, I was enjoying myself. Although I was happy the way I was, I took into account the complaints I got
from my family and decided to take lessons.
I was at first upset that my lessons were moving so slowly. It se...

Perfectly Broken

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