At The Concert

At The Concert

What it feels like when music makes your heart break
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My heart thumps to the beat of the drum; it sings lightly and sweetly.

It follows the rhythm of a faraway song that’s playing in the back of my head. I recognize it instantly; it’s an old time favorite. My body must already be preparing itself. It can sense where we’re going and it’s too excited. The anticipation is killing it. It reminds me of the time I saw Dance Gavin Dance and BlesstheFall. How excited I was that I was finally going to see them when I bought the tickets. How my body curled inward and felt like it was going to explode the day of Warped Tour. How I couldn't stop mentioning to my friends how excited I was, how close to the stage I was, how my heart was curling inwards too and how when the band finally came out, I just exploded outwards. There was no blood, no gore, nothing to prove that my body had turned itself outwards, like a butterfly that has broken off its cocoon. I screamed like I had never had a voice and I finally found it. I jumped like I could fly because I was getting an all time high from the music alone. It was a sensation unlike any I had felt before. I was at the top of life and nothing could bring me down.

It’s something like that. This time too, my body is feeling the wave of excitement that’s coming, a pre-excitement if you may. It’s been this way for awhile now, and my excitement no doubt will only increase as the days go by. There is a month left after all. I can feel it whenever I put my headphones on and play one of his songs. Even through my headphones his voice just courses through my body and makes me explode. It makes my heart melt, like my own heart had broken and now his sweet notes are repairing it. Thinking that I will be able to hear him live gets me giddy, like a kid in a candy shop. A month, that’s all I need. That’s all that’s left till I finally hear him live. Before I can experience real heartbreak. Heartbreak at his beautiful voice. Heartbreak at the end, where it’s finally all over; when they have played for the last time. One final concert. One true ending that will bring me to tears, just like when I first found out they were breaking up.

Gosh I can’t wait.

Cover Image Credit: Wordpress

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11 Things Psychology Majors Hear That Drive Them Crazy

No pun intended.
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We've all been there. You're talking to a new acquaintance, or a friend of your parents, or whoever. And then, you get the dreaded question.

"So what are you studying in school?"

Cue the instant regret of picking Psychology as your major, solely for the fact that you are 99.9% likely to receive one of the slightly comical, slightly cliche, slightly annoying phrases listed below. Don't worry though, I've included some responses for you to use next time this comes up in conversation. Because it will.

Quick side note, these are all real-life remarks that I've gotten when I told people I was a psych major.

Here we go.

1. So are you, like, analyzing me right now?


Well, I wasn't. But yeah. Now I am.

2. Ugh so jealous! You picked the easy major.


"Lol" is all I have to say to this one. I'm gonna go write my 15-page paper on cognitive impairment. You have fun with your five college algebra problems, though!

3. So can you tell me what you think is wrong with me? *Shares entire life story*


Don't get me wrong; I love listening and helping people get through hard times. But we can save the story about how one time that one friend said that one slightly rude comment to you for later.

4. Well, s**t, I have to be careful what I say around you.


Relax, pal. I couldn't diagnose and/or institutionalize you even if I wanted to.

5. OMG! I have the perfect first client for you! *Proceeds to vent about ex-boyfriend or girlfriend*


Possible good response: simply nod your head the entire time, while actually secretly thinking about the Ben and Jerry's carton you're going to go home and demolish after this conversation ends.

6. So you must kind of be like, secretly insane or something to be into Psychology.


Option one: try and hide that you're offended. Option two: just go with it, throw a full-blown tantrum, and scare off this individual, thereby ending this painful conversation.

7. Oh. So you want to be a shrink?


First off, please. Stop. Calling. Therapists. Shrinks. Second, that's not a psych major's one and only job option.

8. You know you have to go to grad school if you ever want a job in Psychology.


Not completely true, for the record. But I am fully aware that I may have to spend up to seven more years of my life in school. Thanks for the friendly reminder.

9. So you... want to work with like... psychopaths?


Let's get serious and completely not-sarcastic for a second. First off, I take personal offense to this one. Having a mental illness does not classify you as a psycho, or not normal, or not deserving of being treated just like anyone else on the planet. Please stop using a handful of umbrella terms to label millions of wonderful individuals. It's not cool and not appreciated.

10. So can you, like, read my mind?


It actually might be fun to say yes to this one. Try it out and see what happens. Get back to me.

11. You must be a really emotional person to want to work in Psychology.


Psychology is more than about feeling happy, or sad, or angry. Psychology is about understanding the most complex thing to ever happen to us: our brain. How it works the way it does, why it works the way it does, and how we can better understand and communicate with this incredibly mysterious, incredibly vast organ in our tiny little skull. That's what psychology is.

So keep your head up, psychology majors, and don't let anyone discourage you about choosing, what is in my opinion, the coolest career field out there. The world needs more people like us.

Cover Image Credit: Pexels

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Short Stories On Odyssey: Roses

What's worth more than red roses?

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Five years old and a bouquet of roses rested in her hands. The audience-- clapped away her performance, giving her a standing ovation. She's smiling then because everything made sense, her happiness as bright as the roses she held in her hands.

Fifteen now, and a pile of papers rested on her desk. The teachers all smiled when she walked down the aisle and gave them her presentation. She was content then but oh so stressed, but her parents happy she had an A as a grade, not red on her chest.

Eighteen now and a trail of tears followed her to the door. Partying, and doing some wild things, she just didn't know who she was. She's crying now, doesn't know anymore, slamming her fists into walls, pricking her fingers on roses' thorns.

Twenty-one and a bundle of bills were grasped in her hands. All the men-- clapped and roared as she sold her soul, to the pole, for a dance. She's frowning now because everything went wrong, but she has to stay strong, for rich green money, is worth more than red roses.

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