Fair is Foul, the inner perspective.

Here I am. This is me. A positive, forward-looking young woman who is willing to work to succeed, who has a huge list of dreams and ambitions. I can't WAIT to be there, I can't WAIT to get started, to direct my first choir, to ace everything.
Except that's not who I've been these last few days. I feel like a recluse. The other music majors don't really think much of me, the professors don't either. They have no reason to think that I'm special at all. In fact, I'm pretty common. There's a dime-a-dozen mezzos in the world. I can compose, but it's of no consequence because my knowledge of the science behind music is limited. I don't have the energy to study as much as I should. I don't enjoy rehearsing because I know I don't sound as lovely as I used to. I know I skwalk and schriek. I only wonder if I always sounded this disgusting or if it's always been that way and I was too musically ignorant to notice. Music is the only THING in this world that I love and have a passion for. Most of my youth was spent on it. And I am such a failure now, I see that I am so far behind the other students that I hesitate even to get help because I don't want to waste the time of the professors anymore. I feel like instead of getting ahead, living my dream, all my life so far I have been wasting my time on things which, although they bring me great joy, are useless to the world. My songs will never be played or sung with any joy. My voice will never be heard with awe of beauty because it isn't beauteous. I have grown myself in a world which I don't belong in.
I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know why God would convince me that I was going to the right place, doing the right things, and then watch me fail so miserably at it.
But I can't blame Him for this. The only person to blame is myself. And Mozart.