As I see it, I have basically two options once I'm handed that shiny sheet of parchment with my full legal name meticulously scrawled upon with only the highest-precision of laser printers. I can continue to involve myself in increasingly deeper and irreversible amounts of unadulterated pretension, or I can succumb to the dark side that is the so-called "industry" where my soul will be bartered to the lowest bidder and my face will become synonymous with a 10-pound sack with 20 pounds of scum inside.

The choice, as you can tell, is a difficult one. The benefits from each are just as plentiful as the drawbacks.

Suppose I were to continue my lifelong pursuit of academic excellence by enrolling in a graduate school. I could continue to compose, delve deeper into the more curious aspects of dead composers, and not have to worry about the deplorable state of the economy who will have nothing to do with green college graduates.

Alternatively, I could begin a dubious journey with a company who refuses to pay me for my time and dumps all the work nobody else wants to do on myself. I would gain invaluable experience learning how to deal with multimedia demands and gain access to powerful contacts who can propel a simple internship into a career.

Already I have frightened myself by using words I have despised for so many years. Hinting at the corporate trash I've been conditioned to loathe, but am cursed to become.

I have decided that regardless of your age, your longing for control over your own life will go on unfulfilled. Anywhere you go, someone will have a final say over your immediate or even distant future, and his opinion will not be swayed by a magical combination of actions or words.

Events are destined to take place in a random and unpredictable fashion, and anyone who believes they are in control of said events are lying to themselves and their loved ones. These events shall continue to take place, affecting the eventual course of your life until that isolated event that decides your life is no longer required in the chaotic texture of human existence.

I can A) pay even more money to become a more pretentious addition to earth's academic cacophony or B) donate my time to a dead monstrosity who could care less of my current operational status.

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