What's weird to me is this feeling of nervousness. It's almost the same as the first time I applied for school. The one difference is my level of confidence. This time my acceptance would be known to me as well deserved. I know what I am worth and I am set on settling for no less.
One quiet evening I described my preparation of battle to my mother as being "ready to kiss the toes of bureaucracy" and kick some art school ass.
I am worried, and scared, but I am firm in my belief that I am a great artist and can release the hell of my art on the critical professors, unwary eyes of the public, and become a more powerful vessel of art than I have every dreamed I could be. It's all to come. I will persevere and become great.
It's not the pursuit of "the American dream", it's my pursuit of what I was born to do. My goal is not fame, nor fortune, but accomplishment and leading a thick and wonderful life.
This is a preview of what is to come:
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