Why I Dropped Out of College (And Why You Should, Too)

There’s something bittersweet about being right around that age that nearly all of your fellow classmates from high school are finishing their 4-year degrees and beginning to pave the road for their successful careers. You can’t really pinpoint whether or not you’re jealous, or happy to see everyone doing well in whatever they ended up pursuing after graduation.

Your life, however, consists of waking up every morning whenever the hell you feel like it, throwing on a pair of jeans and a tshirt, and making it just-on-time to your (barely) full-time waitressing job. Here you find yourself surrounded with 30- and 40- something-year-olds that have never found anything they were more passionate about other than slingin’ booze and eats to the entitled, fancy-shmancy, overrated somebodies of the local “business” class, and the local hipsters that just “love the atmosphere and vibes of the place.” The money is great, and you support yourself just fine. Bills are paid, and then some, but you can’t help  but feel like your intelligence is declining by the minute.

I dropped out of college because I hit the turning point in my (very early) adult life in which I realized I didn’t know what the hell I wanted to spend the rest of my days doing. I didn’t gain enough experience and adventure in my teenage years to know exactly what kinds of things I particularly enjoyed. The goal is supposed to be to love your job so much that it doesn’t feel like work. But what if you just aren’t exactly sure what kind of job you’d love in the long-run?

Now you’re stuck between the ticking clock and the exhausting, repetitive, excruciating life of a waitress, and it’s been three years and counting since you’ve graduated high school. You’ve finished at the local college, and did a semester at a university, but you made the impulse decision to move out on your own. You discovered the freedom of being able to binge drink and roam the world with no rules or boundaries at all hours of the night, and focusing on school became the last of your priorities. Now you have bills, and a lawn to keep up on, and cleaning to do, and a pet to walk and feed. You’ll go back to school when the time is right. No point in wasting money on a degree in a field you’d most likely end up despising, right?


There are so many people like us. There are so many 20-somethings that were once such outstanding students, and over-achievers that we burnt ourselves out just minutes into that college career. And that is perfectly fine. Society has it drilled so far into our overworked minds that we have to stay on this track of education in order to gain the knowledge that is required for success. While that may be the road for a lot of people, it simply just isn’t for others.

Take those couple years off. Break your back working in a local diner. Save up all of those tips and take an impulse vacation somewhere extremely captivating. Spend one too many nights at the local tavern. Spend tons of time with your family. Spend majority of your nights after work bug-eyed in front of Netflix with an espresso just to keep up on your favorite series. Do whatever the hell makes you happy.

On your deathbed, you’re not going to measure your quality of life by the grades you obtained in school. You’re not going to beat yourself up for taking that extra time off to come up with a better plan for how you want to live your life (and enjoying yourself in the process.) You’re not going to regret all of the friends you’ve made that you would’ve never crossed paths with if you’d have gone away for college. You won’t regret all of the things you do, as long as you always do exactly what it is that makes you happy.



You think you know who you are, you think you know exactly what you want to be
Then someone comes strolling in, carelessly
You long for their approval, their “ok” to do things that make you happy

You try to remind yourself that this is what you wanted
But nothing has ever felt so destructive and manipulative
Nothing has ever shown you so much hate but tried to convince you otherwise

Now you’re confused, and you don’t know up from down
You’re hands are broken and bleeding from holding on so fucking tight
To something that is pulling so hard and strong in the opposite direction

But because it’s labeled as “love,” you read it and abide
You do your part but nothing is reciprocated
You give all you have until you’re completely empty

You wouldn’t know love if it punched you in the face

Fuck you

He’s sleeping, and I’m breaking
The voice in my head returns to remind me that I want a cigarette for the 46th time in the last hour

What has become of me?
I toss and turn, beating myself for betraying certain aspects of me that I worked so hard to maintain for so long–
They were stripped away so carelessly and easily because I was vulnerable to the rush of rebellion

Sometimes when you love someone, you let yourself go
It’s never beautiful


It’s whirling, you know. You feed me like a spoon-fed child; I am unaware of what I’m consuming–or what is consuming me.

You are the very touch that burns on contact. My instinct is to withdraw, but here I am, scorching repeatedly.

It’s repetitive, you know. I have become everything I’ve ever stood frozen in front of.




You were supposed to be an escape. Everything that I was running from just showed up right on my doorstep. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting, or what I wanted to become of this.

I trusted you. I let you in when all else failed. I came to you to take the pain away. But how can I expect to be granted a release from the altercations within me when there is nothing in you but a wicked reflection of my very tragedies?

You can’t cure misery by swimming with misery’s finest companion.

When you expect the ocean to wash away your pain, the salt in the water will just burn your wounds.

11/07/16 Looking

There are nights that I lay in my bedroom screaming out “Where are you?”
But I don’t even know who I’m looking for

My chest feels hollow and my brain swells around my thoughts
I’m lost

Am I looking for someone else within these empty walls or am I just so desperate to find myself?

I don’t know who you are, where you’re at, or when I’ll find you, if you exist at all

You and I

11/01/16 Empire

We built an empire
We burned it to the ground
You loved me through sickness
And I loved you less
My mind was made up
I left you alone

I dream of you missing me, though you do not
You trust me none, and you vow me the worst person you’ve loved

I broke myself
You tried so hard to hold me together and keep me safe from my own decisions
But I have the heart of a fool, and my mind knows nothing better

You aren’t here to save me from myself

08/10/16 Maybe

Smoke rolled off of my tongue
I felt the complexities of anything and everything knocking desperately on the walls of my being
I was breaking into the newly discovered hatches held under layers of existences
With all the help of my sullen thoughts,
love was to thank

Maybe I’d leave

The friction that my mind bares with blurry instances is held captive beside my skeptic realizations
He reached over and clutched my thigh
Inside his grasp I felt suddenly painless

Maybe I’d stay


08/03/16 Muse

I lingered back in fear of her seeing the true gunmetal encompassed between the towering walls within my shallow mind
She drew circles around me but I could not sense the direction in which I was supposed to be heading
I knew that this time I couldn’t allow her to lure me into the obscure whispers she heard every night from outside her windows
I came to the conclusion that her sanity was as far fetched as another life-bearing vessel within the smooth, empty waters that flooded my brain
The wavering riptides swallow me whole every time I find myself stirring at the surface of something contemporary
She leaves me wondering, drawing me in as I try so desperately to hang back until I can plant my feet
She leaves me awake at night to confront my own neglected stances while she nevertheless strings me like a marionette
She is my fuel behind a biddable fire, the cause of my cicatrix, and the cure


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