Sometimes I wonder if I chose the right major.
That’s not to say I regret my choice; nay, there’s a certain cache to being a scholar of the English language and its greatest literature. I like to believe that disclosing my path of study conjures enviable images to others; scenes of oak trees, novels written by dead men, and spirited debates in ancient classrooms about things like Falstaffian character development and the significance (or lack thereof) of Oxford commas (though really, who gives a fuck about an Oxford Comma?). At the very least, my department provides me with the smug satisfaction that while graduation might be combined this year, I will still be walking behind the ‘College of Arts and Sciences’ banner rather than the one that says ‘School of Business Administration.’
And, of course, I love reading. I love words. I love people. And I especially love imaginary people—they don’t come with all those messy accessories that other people bring along when they enter your life. Things like expectations. A book can’t argue with you for not paying enough attention to it, after all. People do, though, especially me. I can be rather needy sometimes.
I think, though, that the reason I need constant affirmation, is because I love words. You can arrange them all in a pretty little row and just for a second, you can believe that everything in the world will be alright. I’ve read some of the most moving passages ever penned by mortal men, and I’ve failed miserably at trying to write a sentence or two that could compare. They always fall flat, though, and pale in comparison. To appreciate great literature is excruciatingly tough on one’s ego as a writer.
One of my favorite songwriters, Dustin Kensrue, once noted that “rhetoric can’t raise the dead.” Maybe not, but it comes damn close sometimes.
I’m writing all this not because of literature, though, but because of a song that just played through my headphones and sent my arms ablaze with goosebumps. As my skin shivered, I realized how much I miss playing music.
A friend of mine posted this quote today: “People will forget about what you said, people will forget about what you did, but people WILL NEVER forget about HOW you made them feel.”
I’m not vain enough to think my words will ever give anyone goosebumps. But if I could play a song that did, I think I’d be ok.
