<p>I can't think of a strong last phrase. Any advice?</p>
<p>On the evening of my sixth birthday, my mother and father brought me see my first Broadway show, a theatrical adaptation of The Whos rock opera, Tommy. I watched entranced as actors scurried to and fro across the stage, filling the air with voices resonating through to the back of the auditorium. I listened carefully for each note, making sure I absorbed every sound that rang from the obscured hole in front of the stage. For weeks afterwards, I perched in front of my electric Casio, attempting to play songs from the musical, usually producing cacophonous jumbles of noise. Soon after, my parents bought me a toy drum kit. I practiced for hours, beating the sorry life out of those defenseless, plastic drumheads. I found my percussive adaptations to be more accurate than my melodic ones. As I grew older, I learned to play piano and guitar, and hence my passion for learning instruments set sail.
By age twelve, I gained skill in writing parts for each individual instrument, visualizing an imaginary audiences awestruck facial expressions as they heard my masterpieces in full force. Soon, I became frustrated because I was unable to experience the same excitement that the audience in my head heard; I longed to hear all of my monophonic parts played simultaneously. Via an intensive crash course in rock performance, I attempted to teach my sister how to play my drum kit. After several unwilling rehearsals on her part, she decided to go back to her Barbies. I then replaced her with my lifelong friend Seth, who had just begun to learn bass guitar. We would attempt to sing and play our favorite songs in the smallest room of my murky basement, where not a soul could hear our developing voices. Our musical abilities sharply improved, and I fell in love with an essential skill in music, instrumental interaction.
As I reached high school, I enlisted in my schools musical theatre band, lending my bass guitar skills and my enthusiasm for musical and theatrical histrionics. With the help of my phenomenal music professor Mr. Shepard, I began to expand my instrumental horizons even further. During my sophomore year, I learned to play double bass when my school adapted Rogers and Hammersteins Cinderella. Although I continued to play piano for all these years, it was my music major I enrolled in during my junior year that reestablished my love for a pianos warm sound. I studied the styles of different composers in the history of music and I began performing with more passion and excitement than ever before.
Many people suppress their desires and passions in order to achieve economic success. My own lifelong passion for music, however, continues to flourish, (insert last sentence).</p>