(no subject)
Today is one of those days. One of those days when I seriously ask myself "what is the point of music?" Seriously. I cancelled my recital date. And they make you feel so bad. The teacher has to inform the head of the department that you will not be doing a pre-recital jury afterall. And then you have to go to the office to tell the lady that you are cancelling the date and she makes you sign a paper and tells you that you are not going to get a refund. And then she says "If you had done the pre-recital jury and they hadn't passed you, you would get a refund." What kind of a remark is that? Oh yeah, if you had gone and intentionally made a fool of yourself in front of the piano faculty knowing full well that you are not ready to give a recital, and let them rub it in your face, then yeah, you'd get your fifty stinkin dollars back. WHAT A BITCH. Screw everybody. Screw the bitchy office lady. Screw the music school. Screw the world. And, back to the original question. What is the point of music? You are expected to practice a MINIMUM of four hours a day, preferrably 6 or more. For what? To put on some stupid recital for a bunch of stupid people who can't even read music. And god forbid you play something modern that makes them whine and ask what was that about? The American public education system teaches you so little about music that nobody bats a lash when you make a mistake because they've already fallen asleep. And even if they are awake, they still wouldn't notice. And once again, all that practice time. Everybody else does a job that PAYS them to work. In the music world, they just want to you to be a slave. They want you to practice 60 hours a week just for the hell of it. I hate music today. I hate my life today. And in two hours I'm going to be teaching this senseless so-called "art" to senseless children who can't count or match pitch.