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“How College Ruined My Life”

Well, kind friends, there was once a time in my life when I wanted to be a teacher. But I have to say, one of the teachers I met since moving back here qualified easily as one of the biggest a**holes I’ve ever met, and this other lady actually wrote a creative writing assignment about how abhorrent of an experience teaching is. They won’t let me be one, because I drank and smoked pot, I smoked and drank pot… yet at work at this bar I work at I hear wholesome sociological messages every night like “Ooh I love that a** but I hate that fu**in’ outfit” and “Shots! Shots! Shots!” Again, this would all be all the more excusable if any of the music were at least different. Just feeling confused, wondering if there’s some home-base planet I’m supposed to report to in some other solar system, maybe.

But then, that’s what I get for going to college. College is a “Rousseau”-ist endeavor, and Rousseau is an extremely dull writer, who doesn’t make strong statements, and who apologizes for himself.
College is a place of the quelling of energy. It operates under the ethos that human beings are capable of being intrinsically good, and the deluded principle that education and “awareness” actually improve morality.
Actually, I’ve found, it’s usually in college that students act a fool, and get too drunk, so as to escape their states of mind, these “theoretical” points of view proffered to them which take a logical mode of thought, rather than a fun, free or natural one. Alcohol provides the perfect, much-needed foil for the rigorous schedule of unfeeling information absorption through which students go.
I realize, too, I’m just one man, and I’m not perfect, but at the end of the day it’s clear that I’d be better having not gone to college: I wouldn’t think I was better than other people who work blue-collar jobs, and my “soul,” so to speak, would not take such a hit for the fact that I paid so much for tuition. Also, it’s in college, in Bloomington, Indiana, where I got caught partying… I was once arrested for taking a pi** deep in this abandoned yard, like 40 ft away from the road, or even any light, streetlight or interior.
I used to want to be a mailman, and in high school, I was not hungry for knowledge, at all. I wanted to smoke weed and wear my Bob Marley shirt, and I knew simply from casual knowledge of all the wars that have been fought that knowledge of humanity was an endeavor of diminishing returns.
But, much love for IU, it is a great place with a lot of self-expression, and I realize I don’t speak for everyone.

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