Why I Quit the Business

At this moment I am single handedly typing the greatest column I will ever write, mainly because it will be the last one I ever write—or so I believe. After much deliberation and three cups of coffee I have come to the conclusion that my kind of journalism isn't really needed in society.
Just as our cover story this week harkens back to our childhood imagination, so does my wishful thinking about where I thought I would be going at the end of college. This isn't to say my life is over, but anything Cameron Crowe tried to teach me in Almost Famous about being a music journalist just feels like a lost cause. I can't pull in the big bucks and I will be part of the most hated men in the professional world outside of public relations people—Oh wait, that's what I want to do now too.
This childlike mentality that has acted as a safety net through college made me hope I could make something out of being a journalist. I really miss the times when teachers lied straight to my face about the real world. The ones that made you believe you could be that fireman or astronaut you thought about when you played with Tonka Trucks. But as my collegiate career and the real world have shown me, I still don't have my space food and I don't know how to put out the flame.
It may all stem from realizations that the college lifestyle imbeds into our brains after four years and at multiple FAFSA. The fact that the real world just kicks your ass and people will step on you has hurt my mindset. Not to say that realizing your dreams is impossible, but life often decides a different path. I'm not giving up writing by any means, and maybe I'm not actually giving up journalism completely, but consider this my resignation from my dream job.