Promises
They promised me that college would be different. That I would just have to play this stupid high school game for four years and then it would be over. I would be free, I would be enlightened, I would be thrown in amidst people like me. I just had to stick things out a little longer until I got the reward. Things would be different.
Things aren’t different. As much as I hated high school, as much as I saw all the good teachers burn out and give up and most of my friends burn out and give up, I was, for the most part happy. Now, I am completely unhappy. Now, I see that there is no escape, I see the cruel light of reality. Now, I see that life really is like high school. You can’t escape it. It’s like high school++. The cliques, the drugs, the booze, the kids who don’t care about becoming better, or making the world better. It’s all there, across america, on the majority of college campuses. But the worst part is, college is like training for the real world. All the evils that I see around me are the evils of society. There is no more bright future to look upon. I am committed to 50 years of bleak reality.
Can I make it on my own? Can I become better than I am, can I survive, thrive, do well, despite my environment, just like I did in High School? Yes, that is what I must do. Still, I feel betrayed. They all promised that things would be better. That for four years I would find a respite from stupidity and ignorance, that I might find people like me who I could surround myself in and feel happy, and safe, and free. I’ve always had to make it on my own. I’ve always had to defend my decisions and ideals from all sides, and its tiring. I just wish, just for a little bit, that I could have a couple of things that go my way. I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of being alone, but I’m not going to compromise the only things that make me worth anything as a person.
They said things would be different. They’re not.
They said life would be better. It’s not.
They hung the future in front of me, a golden reward, like a carrot before a carriage horse. After I toiled, and sweated, spurring myself on, when I got the carrot it was rotten and soiled.
The promise was a fucking lie.