26 April 2010

15 April 2010

A Matter of Present and Future

It is a tragedy and a travesty, in my humble opinion, that a mind with so much potential for brilliance is going to waste due to the utter BOREDOM it is subjected to.

I've never been one to explicate on my own genius— that's just not how I think— but since the commencement of my attending college, I have grown lazy and progressed in deep, unadulterated BOREDOM with academic life. I've been on the Dean's List for all three semesters and have exerted exactly no effort in attaining such a laureate. Every day I sit in a class and either stare off into space, creating greater products than those I am forced to churn out and turn in, or am outraged at the utter STUDPIDITY of content, verbiage, and company that occurs.

I don't declare it often, but the events of the last year and a half have slammed the truth into my face repeatedly so that, barring flagrant denial, I cannot ignore it: I am brilliant and that is wholly uncommon. The common man is a imbecile and a fool and I am completely BORED by him.

In theory my aspirations are not terribly high: learn something every day, never stop, and start an at-least moderately successful band with whom I could tour the country and, with time, the world. Most would view this last as idealistic and whimsical.

However, aside from my intelligence that goes vastly ignored, I also possess a certain amount of talent, which also sadly goes underappreciated. I learnt to sing from Freddie Mercury, Roger Daltrey, and John Lennon. Through many a chorus, musical, and memorisation of CD, I expanded my taste and vocal range. My heart, however, remains firmly rooted with rock and roll.

Here, however, my dilemma elucidates itself. I'm still in college, with no degree to speak of. I'm not learning much of anything, but to get a decent job, I need a degree, and to support a band, I need a job. There are no contemporary music schools with the programs I desire in the Bay Area. I have discovered some in New York, Hollywood, and Orlando, but none are San Francisco. Thus I must either compromise my one true desire and put a dream on a shelf, or abandon the city full of such fascinating people and communities for another far away where I will know no one.

No one can make this decision but me, and I flounder and panic and shut down when faced with life-altering decisions. Honest advice would be appreciated, but please, keep your selfish intentions. Twofacedness will only push me further in the direction of leaving.