I've decided. This summer I'm going back to Europe and its OK if I don't come back in the fall. Fuck school. Sure school's great, there are some inspiring people trying to excite young minds, but they are doing it in a system that is also trying to form young minds into the robots of commerce of the future.
They worry so much about our "careers" and "job opportunity", and that we have the skills to succeed that they lose track of our process of learning, exploring and maturing. "School" is an assembly line to mediocrity, in a factory making people that fit in.
You may think, "WHat!! what about occupy and protests and activisism and pepper spray!" I would say to you "what do those outlier events really mean? Are they the start of a whole way of life? Or just a bit of rebellion before the mortgage, family and faded dreams?" For some they will be a way of life, but consider; life lived trying to change others is of less ultimate influence than a life lived in your own unique and satisfying way, that broadens the scope of possiblilty and acceptability for others.
School should celebrate people who head off in new directions, pushing the envelope of life, in thought, in action, in lifestyle. It should not celebrate people acting like sheep, sitting to be peppersprayed in media events that try to affect change with negative means. Sure there is cause for revolution, but using force, even passive/aggressive force is not required here and now. Go out and live and create the world in the vision you have, rather than try to tear down your parents version.
So, I may not go back to school.
My writing is slow, too many distractions, and there is something about being is such familiar circumstances that sucks the inspiration out into the hazey california sky and makes me lazy.
I'm thinking renting a room in Paris, the writers garrett, and disappearing into my head for a time. Maybe if I can come up with some way of leaving my credit cards at home and living off a pittance, it will force me to spend time getting all these ideas, dreams and stories out of my head and onto paper.
Paper! Pixels really!
Last time I was in Paris I almost fell in love. Maybe I will meet someone and my life will turn on that and I will end up living there, raising a family, and leaving behind the wonderful comfort of being an affluent california girl, with all its materialistic temptations.
I've promised myself that if I get 50,000 words done, I will reward myself with a week in Greece, on the beach, sunburning my boobs like I did last year!