I
can’t even sit and read.
For
as much as I tend to rant or blog, it amazes me how little people can
truly appreciate how I think or feel. I’d like to believe that when
I say something a hundred ways a thousand times, it’s me refining
my argument or building up the proper method of how I’m going to
deal with something. My refinements never seem to be met with
anything other than the same old tired ideas.
“You’re
soooooooooooooooo close!”
Close
to fucking what! I’m close to spending $70,000 fucking dollars for
a degree in something I have no intention or desire to study further.
Stop fucking telling me how close I am! Here, sit in a room with a
paddle ball. Do it four just an hour a day. I don’t care how good
you get at it. Just paddle, and don’t stop for four years. The
thoughts you have after the first 10 minutes of this activity are the
same ones I’ve had throughout these four fucking years. I can’t
think of a bigger display of hating myself and woe than proving over
and over again that I can learn arbitrary shit, apply it to arbitrary
questions, and fucking hate everything about myself and the time I’ve
spent doing it. What do you do to an animal that’s suffering? You
kill it. I don’t even have to die to feel overwhelmingly better
about what I’m doing with my time and money.
Maybe
that analogy wasn’t good enough. Climb a mile high pile of shit.
Every time you plunge your hand in, just think about how close you
are. Ignore the smell and never mind your clothes. It doesn’t
matter how many times you fall or slip, just keep pushing, digging,
and fighting for the top. Once you get there, TADA! OMG YOU MADE IT.
Covered in shit, cheering at the top of the mountain, please continue
to explain to me how much better I’ll be looking like you.
“People
won’t respect you if you don’t get a degree.”
I
don’t want to work for or anywhere near a person who bases their
level of respect on your grades or the titles of your classes. Tell
me, theoretical future employer, you may have talked to some of my
friends or can read my facebook notes. Can you respect what I’ve
learned in the psychological field? Do you think my “skills” will
transfer to balancing the books of the Sears or Kohl’s you want me
to manage? Have I finally made myself worthy by proving that I could
condition myself to hate every minute of my life and still perform a
task? That’s what you’re looking for right? You want to make sure
I’m so well rounded, rounded the point of an amorphous shell of who
I once was so that you can dictate how I should fit into a company.
This
goes further. Both my uncles have degrees. Both are unemployed. This
notion that degree equals job is simply bullshit, especially today. A
degree equals a job on shaky ground. A job that may or may not last
till the next month. A job that is dictated by someone who may or may
not have the best idea of how to run it or how to relate to you. I
don’t want “a job.” I want my job. Something I’ll be actually
good at for reasons dependent on me. Anyone can crunch your
numbers or follow a company directive; only you can maintain your
relationships and foster growth or productivity from them. I’ve
heard enough of the horror stories of waking up dead. Dead to the
world, realizing what you’ve become and where you’ve put
yourself. How do I justify pushing myself closer and closer to such a
reality?
It’s
never been about ability, and that’s the problem. No one puts on
like they care about what I’m capable of. They don’t act like my
specific knowledge is necessary or relevant. If the one person that
has to care is me, then so be it. When someone talks about how
important the degree is, to me, it’s like saying “you know, the 3
and half years and 3.3 gpa, that’s all shit and doesn’t matter,
the degree, now THAT will stick out.” The irony of course being
that, to me, it doesn’t matter, but the context they’re pushing
for, the one that needs those things, is the one they haphazardly
dismiss.
It’s
all about your philosophy. Do you think it’s about fitting into a
society you don’t agree with because “that’s life” or do you
maintain the struggle to fight against things you can show to be
inadequate, destructive, and soul crushing? Are you about progressing
down a line or growing as a person? I’d rather abstain from
something than be a hindrance. More importantly, I’d rather be the
proper tool.
IF,
IF and when I graduate, it will mean nothing. If someone starts a
sentence with “because you graduated you’re so and so qualified”
I’m going to go with “you’re an idiot.” If someone tries to
explain to me how necessary it is for me to open and that college
broadened my horizon and perspective, I’m going to go back to the
chorus and proclaim you’re a fucking idiot. I’m not a person
because I know random facts. I’m not qualified because I answer
questions we already know the answers to. I should only garner
respect and admiration for choosing to do things and choosing to do
them well. Anything less, or worse, the complete fucking opposite
(you know like I’m doing in school), should make you sad or pissed
off at what’s being wasted. But again, I’m the only one that
needs to care about me.
Do
I wander around campus looking for a party with Kesha blaring and a
fridge full of PBR? No, I create a party house. I play topless pong,
experiment with sheesha flavors, build a relationship with a badass
DJ and accommodate guests. Do I think noisy chains or crazy hair says
anything about how well I can do in school or run a coffee shop? Fuck
no, and for those who do, the idea of looking a certain way and doing
even better than a “normal” person could, frankly, gets me off.
The management skills I
fought for working at a theater I’ll translate into how I
run a coffee shop or any fucking else thing I want to run. I’ll
bank on the relationships I foster because I MADE THEM.
