A few weeks ago, I finally conquered the pain-in-the-ass demon always lingering in my brain. The voice in my head asking, “Bro, do you have any idea what you’re gonna major in yet?” Family and friends always asked something like this as a kind form of conversation and they always gave you some advice along the lines of “Don’t worry about it just yet. You’ll figure it out," with a pat on the back and a look that gave off a “this poor kid’s got no idea what he’s doing and is pissing his money away for a liberal arts education” vibe.

For me, these pep talks never did anything but make me feel more existential. I am aware no one ever said it out of jest. It’s simply just the wear and tear of hearing that spiel over and over that made me feel hopeless. While I did want to go to college, for a time I began to believe I went to college because my mother, and society as a whole, pushed me into this place. General educations offered no clarity towards what I wanted to do and I spent a lot of freshman year on social and personal development (which proved to be beneficial since I’m here now writing crappy and weird articles for the Odyssey). I am no stranger to bouts of self-doubt and low self-esteem.

Life is not sunshine and rainbows. I’ve known that since middle school. The world can be a harsh and savage place. If you don’t watch out, it can really ravage you and bring on some massive damage. It’s difficult to go through life and define exactly what it is and who you are. Some people have the luxury of knowing exactly why they’re here and can seemingly live without any existential doubts. I’ve never had that luxury. I have difficulty figuring out why I’m here often. I’m aware finding the answer is not easy. Whenever I’m on the verge of some breakthrough, the universe seems to push me ten feet back. Finding a purpose takes might and passion. If you’re expecting a fart joke in this article you should go elsewhere.

Life can also be beautiful of course; there is so much to be grateful for. There is just so much to see in America and abroad: art, human interaction, and so much more. When life’s wearing on a person it can be difficult to remember how much there is to see and love. I’d love to have a job that lets me enjoy life and see the world.

I have decided on a journalism major for the time being. I have been interested in journalism/media for some time now. Music has always been a passion of mine, and for years I was truly convinced that’s what I would spend the rest of my life doing. Letting go of a passion is destructive. It can kill a weaker man on the inside and turn him into something rotten and awful. My greatest fear is becoming a person who has given up completely. However, time and experience have proven that this will not be the case. For years I lived in denial of this, but for the time being, I have decided to choose media studies and writing. I was afraid of what people would say if I decided to say what my major was.

“You’re not going to make any money doing that!”

“You’re going to be everyone that is wrong with America. Your damn millennial generation is ruining everything!”

That’s another thing. Don’t give a shit about what other people think of you. Ever. Of course, don’t get pretentious to the point that you surround yourself with legions of "yes-men" cronies and get all feisty with a person trying to merely offer some constructive criticism. Find a balance, like with anything else. People are going to shoot you down. Tell you that you’re unable to do something. Society might’ve ostracized you. Be you; that is the greatest “fuck you” you can send to the world.

Life is too short to spend unhappy. It’s easy to wallow in pity, but it takes a momentous stride to lift oneself out of a self-imposed pit. To quote the late great Hunter S. Thompson, for some food for thought if you find the constraints and standards of life to be too overwhelming, “Who is the happier man, he who has braved the storm of life and lived or he who has stayed securely on shore and merely existed?”