Once again, I got an email today whose subject heading told me:

"All life's mysteries, explained here!"

That was, surprise, a lie. It is slightly more surprising that the doors to my college, over which an invisible implied banner that says the same thing hangs, offer no more help than a spam email. There are also several other banners hanging around campus which are fairly hard to see, especially until your senior year, that say:

If you love something, we will teach you everything you hate about it. In this respect it will be much like life.

Kill yourself over this.

If this is empty to you, it's supposed to be.

I refuse to accept that life is a series of things I don't want to do, stretched over a canvas of 25 or 60 years.

Art critics, you create an endless circle of what's been done and what has meaning that spirals down until no artist has anything to do with what they create and nothing is beautiful.

Teachers, you teach us to do things we will hate someday because you no longer have the gall to go do them yourself.

So I decided that this schooling has to end. I've been walking on this path for 15 years, and the plants that line it keep getting browner and deader. There is less and less worthwhile to be seen on it with every step. And although some have told me that eventually I'll come to something great, this shitty walk has been long enough as it is. Parts of me don't even believe that they have ever seen the end of the path either.