I finished school on Friday. I'm certified in audio engineering.
I've studied and soaked up everything related to sound for an entire year.
No one really understands what it is I've gone to school for, and I don't find it easy to explain.
I learned how to turn music produced by instruments into electrical signals and digital data.
I know why the kick drum sounds like it's punching you in the chest on your favourite songs.
I know that it's not the drummer who is responsible for it.
I could compose a symphony, strings, brass and all, with a keyboard and computer software.

Going to school kind of ruined the way I listen to music.
Everything is analysed. I point out technical faults in everything. And technical wonders.
Music is no longer an art. It's a science now.
I don't even like listening to a lot of my favourite bands anymore.
I listen for production value instead of musicianship.
So basically everything sounds like pop music. Except orchestral.
Everything about orchestral satisfies my ears wholly.

Regardless of all this, I'm glad I did it.
I have to be. I have to be happy where I am, no matter where it is.
Everywhere I go is exactly where I've put myself.
It's easy to wish I had gone for a degree in psychology.
But I have this problem with commitment. With staying in one place. With authorities.
And with that, I accept that I am in the best possible place I could be.
I thought today that I am actually pretty happy with life.
I realized I haven't felt that way in a while. In fact, I don't remember what it's like.
The last time I remember being entirely happy was grade five.
Obviously I've felt happiness since, but overall I've been a rather depressive person.
Which I have no qualms about. I'm perfectly sociable. I have a creative mind and an intellect that surpasses most common people's.
I can only describe it like living with a mild bipolar personality. Not to flippantly compare to the seriousness of a disorder, but I can remember specific moments in my life that paralleled what people describe to be manic episodes, followed by crying for hours. I still do that.
Given the circumstances I was forced to develop under, which I won't elaborate upon now, I'm rather pleased with what I've done with myself. And I firmly uphold the thought that I will only make myself better.