Tired of ire, tired of shame, tired of patience, tired of limitations, no longer will I feel sorry for myself. Angry with the world— encumbered with frustration and the "sacrifice and compromise" lifestyle because immaturity and indolence are no longer options. Never good enough for family, thus self. Throttled in a dull and banal existence— frugality, modesty, shrewd emotional and financial budgeting— no spending or loving too much ("Everything in moderation, dear"). Let it all go and start fresh— an adult now, time to sit down, shut up and conform.

Passion is not accepted in American society. Must understand logic, rationality and reason, because that's what's responsible. "Responsible," a word that was drilled into my head since my conception, plagues me; am I ever responsible enough? Get a job, go to school; "We never want to you to just barely eke out a meager income for the rest of your life."

Corporations and capitalistic thinking have both severely skewed the priorities of modern human nature into near detriment. We value money, power, and fame— our holy American trinity. Whatever happened to love, honor, dignity, respect, pride, and beauty in the now almost unseen wonders of nature? What happened to family and self-worth? Today, we're so wrapped up in narcism and media-induced paranoia that we forgot who we are and what that means. We collectively spend millions on of dollars on therapy, seeking out diagnoses so that we have a scapegoat to blame our problems on and pills so that we don't have to deal with them! Stop worrying about fiscal gain and start worrying about having the emotional wherewithal to sustain a life of inevitable travail. It's a boon that people are at all able to project a single iota of conviction or fervor anymore!

To be an artist here is to embrace inherent struggle. We're free to speak, but are we free to express? Why must we suppress and painstakingly monitor our hearts and minds? I realize to that to expect a little empathy and perhaps some right-brained intellectualism is unrealistic and maybe even foolish, but I'm a dreamer! What kind of trite world would we live in without those of my particular ilk?

However, to be fairly playing devil's advocate, without the rationally military-minded, anarchy and discord would reign. A society cannot run efficiently without some sort of order to it; freedom is never without cost. Fortunately, there are the minds that unite art and science, and without them, modern technology and medicine wouldn't be half as advanced as it is today. But those two fields will indefinitely lead back to money, and money corrupts.

Our national definition of success is having the house, the car, the clothes, and the looks, and while all are well and good, do we truly appreciate it all? Do we realize what we, as a general populace, have that others don't? What would happen if we lost it all tomorrow? Would we know what to do?

Once we finally come into money, we lose our honor. We'll fight tooth and nail to hold on to it all, shamelessly slighting the repercussions and disregarding those that they affect. But if it weren't money, it'd be land, or livestock, or who knows what else? Because human nature is naturally inclined to a quid-pro-quo mentality.

So what can a quietly angry artist do in such a world to thrive? Pine for a future that will actually embrace its humanity? Amble about until this revenue-revering retinue retires? Linger around for an era that will never come to pass? No. Sit down, shut up, and conform.