Ode To My Bachelor's Degree

I got my degree almost 4 years ago. December 2016, to be exact. I attended college for 10 semesters. Fall 2009, plus fall 2012-2016. Also spring 2013-2016. Yep. That's 10. Anyways. My B.A. diploma still sits in the envelope it came in. I'm not sure what to do with it. I'm not sure what to do with it metaphorically, either.

It's like I'm always turning into someone else. I was a different person for each semester I was in school. I've been multiple different people since I've graduated. With all these different versions of myself, I guess some versions were closer to my real self than others. But never wholly there. 

I got my degree in stage management, which is something I never really cared about. Then why did I pursue it for a few semesters of my college life? It seemed like a happy medium between my love for the artistic and my right-side-brain way of functioning. But it never satisfied. I only applied for a few theatre management jobs through it all. 

At one point I studied journalism. I started off as an actor. I was doing okay performance-wise at all these things. But internally, the incompleteness was always there. It still is. 

Somehow, amid my life's journey of incompleteness, I got a Bachelor's Degree. Simply a phase I went through. Somehow dedicated a lot of time and energy into getting this thing. 

I only write this because I've felt bad for the last few months. And have just recently been having flashbacks to my final semester at school. I never had a clear view of my future. I cared about what was in front of me and succeeded at that. But the amount of things to do placed in front of me have been reduced and I've been finding new ways to do nothing over the last 4 years. 

Going to school gave me something to do. At all times. Yet it was all non-consequential. I've always lived a life of action with little purpose, only now I do less. How am I supposed to learn things? How am I supposed to progress? How do I feel like myself? Will I ever feel like myself?

I have a Bachelor's Degree in stage management. I have a 1997 Ford Taurus. I have a used Fugazi CD. Don't ask me which possessions mean the most to me. I have enough belongings to cram into a shared apartment. What am I supposed to have? And what do I do with these things I do have? 

I just always feel weird saying I have a Bachelor's Degree. And all my college days feel like a distant dream to me. I've had so many friendships, yet I always have a hard time keeping them strong. I learned so many new things, only to have them shoved from one ear out the other every summer. All these things are my fault. What do I do now? Who have I become?

Music Doesn't Make Me Happy

Music doesn't make me happy. 

Music is my life. I love music. But does it make me happy? Nah. It feels more like a chore. It's like something I have to carry. I get too nit-picky about it. 

I'm listening to music right now as I write this. I'm listening to music I like. Funny thing, sometimes I choose to listen to music I don't like. I realize my taste in music is very narrow and stupid. Most music out there I simply just don't care about. 

This thought occurred to me last night at a jam session. After an hour or so of jamming with some friends on my bass guitar, I was shown a couple YouTube videos of a bluegrass duo--I think they were called The Milk Carton Kids? Anyways. This one guy in the band was arguably the greatest guitarist I've ever witnessed. Yet I did not give a flying flip. 

I played trombone growing up. I was in the high school band my freshman year, and almost my sophomore year. That's when it hit me that I really don't care about symphonic music. I still don't. I can't say I'm unimpressed. It's just that for the most part, it just doesn't make me feel or think anything.

I still remember this one roommate who questioned my guitar skills because I didn't know how to play "Classical Gas." Why would I want to learn how to play "Classical Gas"? 

I think music is a way for me to find a deeper meaning behind things. That's not fun. That's not joyous. Sometimes I judge the production quality, despite the fact I have no idea how to produce music myself. Sometimes I'm snarky about the lyrical content, which is something I personally struggle with. But I only care about whatever music I want to care about. 

Soundtracks to musicals? Old-timey bluegrass shtick artists? Background compositions for movies? Reggae DJ sets? DIY YouTubers who put their own spin on pop covers? Any Christian music ever made at all? A Capella? "Classical Gas"? I don't have to care.

Sometimes music excites my senses. But it often just feels like a dull job where I'm always on the clock. Critiquing everything I hear. Coming up with song ideas. Things like performance and enjoyment are only a small piece to the puzzle. 

I kinda wish music made me happy. It sounds pleasant. But just the way I think...Music might have too much of some general over-arching purpose for it to be a basic outlet or hobby. I want to be known as a songwriter. But it's an overwhelming thought. And a task that requires work outside of the comfort zone. And right now, a lot of musical work is outside my comfort zone. Because I know I can do it, but probably won't enjoy it. Because music doesn't make me happy. It's more like some burden I've chosen to carry and hide inside. 

For all you music people out there, keep making music. Keep listening to the songs you like. I'll be over here sitting and stewing over it all.