Friday the 13th, 2025

What a wonderful way to end the week. Nothing like a lovely panic attack at an awkward poster presentation. How stupid PA school has felt. It has felt like nothing short of a fever dream. Every single aspect of it was nothing but a mirage of misery. To be around everyone who is Type A but WORSE – because they don’t have the confidence to speak up for themselves. I don’t fit in with the crowd. Not at all. I’ve known that from the interview. Fuck, I’ve known that since I was a kid. I was never a nerd. A science kid. I wanted to be. So badly. I found it fascinating. But I was never not an artist. I always was an artist. I am still an artist, even more now than ever. That I do not have to convince myself over and over again that what I am doing is my passion. I never truly believed I had passion for medicine, it was driven by ego. And once I got to the point where I thought I could live the best life as a PA and still make great money, all of it looked like a trap. I genuinely cannot fill out a resume. I cannot physically make a resume. It just isn’t in me. I can’t work for someone ever again. If that means I live a humble life, then so be it. I’d rather live my life in joy and peace than the nightmare it has been from the expectations of others. Get me out of the mold I have created for myself. Let the core individual shine through and penetrate reality. We were not put on this Earth for the 40 hour work week. We don’t exist to scroll on our phones for the relief of that quick dopamine hit we’ve now become addicted to. We are alive.