An Essay I Wrote to Get into a Shitty University

Yes, They Accepted Me. No, I Didn’t Go.

I want to change the way people interface with the world. I want to learn this in a creative environment based on creating movements; not going through the motions. The nine to five is not what I want, but it seems that’s what every school promises me. I want the blurred hours of inspired productivity.
 
I need to learn how to live doing what I have passion for. Not a lesson in practicality and the temptation of a large yearly payment for 2,000 hours of my time spent not being who I want to be. Doing things that aren’t beautiful, things that will be replaced by future technology as soon as it’s financially feasible.

Wearing a white collar won’t make a stranger smile.

No one sees a spreadsheet they really want.
 
I want to create passion between object and person. A smile. That “oh” moment when something works the way you naturally try to use it. I need my soul in things and to have those things shown around and spread. The manual to do this job, to use these tools don’t exist in my DNA. There is no experiences passed down. The only osmosis of knowledge I have is where I need to go. I need to go to [INSERT SHITTY “UNIVERSITY” HERE]. To learn. To create. To live. To have a chance to marry my passion.