Voicemail

“Voicemail”, a music piece by SJ

Lyrics 
i went everywhere and nowhere at the same time (same time)
you and me we are exactly like the same kind (same kind)
running through the sound of pushing paper
see you later
i never believed in your creator
you think you’re saint, i could never understand you
and we look dumb we’re both competing for the beaucoup.

Transferring to UCSD felt like a dream come true; I was only an hour away from my family, I got a job nearby, and there were plenty of academic opportunities for me on campus. I came in with the mindset that this was a surreal opportunity as a first-gen student, and I must do everything I can to make the most of the two years I have here.

However, as I progressed through the rigor of my classes and succumbed to the competitive warzone of STEM work, my initial mindset very quickly turned into survival mode. I grew into the idea that I needed to zone in on solely my schoolwork, and I started to view everything unrelated as a mere distraction from my purpose. I wanted to excel within this cutthroat system, and I became hyper-disciplined to ensure my academic success by any means. Although I had transferred to UCSD in part to be closer to my family, I didn’t visit them at all during my first two quarters. I hardly talked to them anymore; we were weakly connected through missed calls and late voicemails.

The first part of the song is a collection of voicemails from my grandma, my mom, my best friend, and my sister. These were all calls I missed, likely while I was studying or doing homework. The clock ticks in the background, as even listening to the voicemails took valuable time away from my ruthless schedule. At the time, I thought that ignoring their calls was the “right” thing to do; they were sidetracking me from the hours of studying I cut out for myself, and I continued to decline any opportunity for socializing. However, as I self-isolated in my room with my calculator and a whiteboard, listening to the voicemails from the calls I’d missed, I felt a twang of sadness every time I clicked play on a new recording.

Here’s where the lyrics of the song come into play. I felt divided into two halves; part of me felt the need to push everyone away to focus on my studies, while the other part of me was obviously lonely and felt alienated by my own decision to distance myself. The reverberating vocals reflect how these two halves bounced off of each other, and I felt lost in an endless battle with myself. I had this drive to excel in the college system, to work day and night to get the As; but I felt myself becoming exhausted of the relentless expectations I cut out, and it was almost like I grew resentful of my own aspirations. I felt a
struggle between wanting the recognition and awards of succeeding within the system, and wanting to
reject the impossible standards and competition that it imposes on students. I felt in constant conflict with my academic/career goals and my social/personal connections.

Over time, I realized that my way of thinking was not sustainable. I was on the verge of suffering
from burnout and the quarter system felt more and more unforgiving as the days went on. My inner battle culminated as I finally gave in and sacrificed a weekend to drive up to my family. I remember hugging my mom for the first time in months and my emotions immediately rushed over me. The anxiety I had built up over the past few quarters washed away as I took the time to reconnect with my family and open up to them about how I had mistaken solitude for success. At that moment I vowed to stop living through voicemails, and to recognize the importance of life outside of academia.