With sweat rolling down the side of his face, clammy hands holding the drumsticks for dear life, shaking lips, shallow breathing, wide eyes, and dilated pupils– he strikes the drum. He's Andrew Neiman from the movie Whiplash. He’s sweating and shaking, not because of stage fright, but because of the thought that "I cannot mess up!" He practices until his blisters form and his hands bleed. A car crash doesn't stop him from walking on stage bleeding. His eyebrows drawn together and eyes dark, he practices on and on, neverending. The metronome beeps, speeding up. As does my hand moving between my mouth and my popcorn. Finally, he punches the drum head and it ruptures with a crash. It's violent. Me and him, we have a commonality. We share an interest in playing music in a band. And we want to play well, of course. But somehow, he felt so different from me. It was in how he looked tense all the time; there was so much anger and energy. He has that burning, boiling passion to keep on going. It made me think: "Have I ever had that much passion for something?" No, I never had; not that much. I wanted that same passion. I wanted to want something so bad for once in my life, to be able to live with tunnel vision because nothing else mattered. I used to be embarrassed of being over-invested into something. It may be over-preparing for a lab, being excited to play a piece in band rehearsal, or making ceramic bowls. I wanted to be “cool” by hiding my excitement. Appearing to be bored looked cool. And if I failed at something, it seemed okay because I wasn’t so interested in it. In reality, I really was curious. But like some people say, “fake it till you make it,” I felt my actual attitude starting to wane. I was no longer excited for anything. That was when Whiplash showed me that being passionate is also “cool.” Passion and excitement drive every action; it is a mental and physical energy source. It was nothing to hide; I had to become proud of what I wanted to do, of my failures, and successes. My new life’s motto became “Passion doesn’t hurt.” Now, I practice flute until my fingers hurt (not as near as much as Neiman, of course), keep knitting until I run out of yarn, and keep editing my drawing until it becomes seamless. And soon, I know I’ll be crazy passionate about chemistry in college, too!