it's not a party if it happens every night

Grad school is definitely not in my short-term plans. Then how come I get so jealous of people who are making it? More specifically, Jonathan Cole, who is going to my dream school for my dream grad program in one of my favorite cities in the world. That wasn't a complete sentence. Maybe that's why I'm not going to grad school haha

I think one of the main reasons I now, realistically, don't share those same dreams is that I am not a bullshitter. I am a terrible bullshitter, and while I recognize the substantiality (is that a word?) shared in our relationship, that boy can bullshit his way out of death, or in this case, school. I'm not trying to diss the man; hell, I honestly don't know any smarter 26 year olds out there. I look up to him, somewhat like a brother, somewhat like my brother's friend, and I know we've influenced each other musically and in other ways. 

I look at what I'm doing now, and I honestly (hate that word.. need to find a replacement) never thought I would be here. Ever since we were little, we (women) were taught to suck. In more than one way. Especially immigrants from the Philippines and other US-influenced third world countries (in their economy, in their politics, in their general consensus of a society).. we were taught to work sooo hard to be at the same level as those who have been born into privilege. Why exactly was that the goal to begin with? Why feel the "catholic" guilt when doing something out of the ordinary (or something I didn't go to school for) to make myself happy? Who said prosperity and success go hand in hand in a world where half the world can't fucking have a clean glass of water? 

These are questions, thoughts, etc. that are starting to make some sense.

All I know is this-

My first semester of my junior year of undergrad, Gustavo Leone told me that if I ever stopped making music, I would get depressed. And he was absolutely right. But if I ever stopped making sense of this world, rearranging its nuts and bolts, and reaching for that "meaning" of life, I would get dead. I was already dead. I feel alive, in so many ways, and I'd rather be alive and depressed than floating face down. 

p.s. informal concert tomorrow night- my string quartet's being performed wooooo