I want to be a music major. 
I want to pursue my passions, 
master my skills, 
and live a life where music is my career. 
I want to be able to call myself a musician. 
I want to have what it takes. 
A career in performing is a career in comparison. 
Always knowing I can practice for  
hours 
days 
weeks 
months, 
but still the girl three chairs down is better. 
Is she practicing more? 
Born more talented? 
Does she want it more? 
Doctors in music, 
professionals in their field, 
surely, they are confident with their skills. 
Surely, they feel worthy to call themself a musician. 
No matter how good they are though, 
the girl next door is better. 
Celebrities selling out stadiums of people begging to hear their voice, 
hearing their songs sung by thousands. 
Surely, they are proud to call themself a musician. 
But no matter how many stadiums they outsell, 
the girl on the radio has outsold more. 
I love music. 
Music makes me feel: 
Happy 
Excited 
Angry 
Sad 
Passionate 
Alive 
Human 
I have put all I have into music. 
Every day off,  
every free hour,  
every shower,  
every car drive,  
and every spare minute. 
I have been yelled at for playing too loudly at 3 in the morning. 
I have shed tears over not hitting a note. 
I have skipped class,  
practice,  
and work to stress over a strum pattern. 
I have bled from guitar callouses. 
I have given my life to music, 
and still, I will not call myself a musician. 
I am not worthy of calling myself a musician. 
I wish I was as good as the girl three chairs down. 
If I were, I could finally call myself a musician. 
If only I knew that  
she too  
does not call herself a musician, 
because she will never be as good  
as the girl  
three chairs down.