I hardly knew me.

piertotum-locomottor:

arnobuyens:

I thought it was gonna be cute but it just turned creepy

ARE THOSE HIS LEFTOVERS!?

Justin M. Damiano by Daniel Clowes

hurryuppleaseitstime:

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I recently read Clowes’ Ghost World but I’ve only just remembered that he wrote this little thing for the collection of short stories and character sketches that Zadie Smith edited a few years ago, The Book of Other People. Anyway, seeing as it’s so short I thought I’d put it up here and a few of you might be interested - read more for the rest.

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Can you give some advice for a person who dropped out of college, to follow her dream (I want to be a doctor.) But I failed the test I need to take to get in med school (in Brazil) more than 3 times. And today my Mom said to me that when other people ask her what I'm doing... she feels ashamed to say that i'm still studying to get in college. I mean, I'm still nothing. I'm feeling like shit, but I can't give up, but I have the feeling that no one believes that I'll be in med school someday. :/

danharmon:

Nobody has ever been nothing.  We are all equally something and some of us are much luckier than others.  I was less lucky than I am now for over a quarter of my life, which is something like three quarters of my adult life - I’m not lucky enough to be good at math - my point is, I’ve felt like “nothing” for more waking hours on this planet than I’ve felt like anything.

I’m as bad at giving advice to others as you are at passing that med school test.  But believe me, that’s all that test is measuring: your ability to pass it.  It is not measuring the type or quality of doctor you might one day be, and it is certainly not measuring your worth as a person.  If this is something you honestly want, I would bet you’re going to end up getting it.  Or, at the very least, being totally satisfied that you left no stone unturned.

Your Mom is probably just expressing, in that frequently frustrating Mom way, that she’s worried she’s not being a good Mom.  She doesn’t want to see you fail, she doesn’t want you to have a bad life, because she’s measuring her abilities as a Mom by your outcomes, same as you’re measuring yourself by this med test.  I’m sure being a Mom is harder than being a doctor but I’m also sure the entrance exam was easier.  Moms can’t push a button and stop being Moms just because we’ve decided we’re grown up, and the things they say in an attempt to keep “raising” us can get under our skin.  But the biggest favor you can do yourself and your Mom (and everyone else) is to be confident about what you want.  To know why you want it.  Then you have honesty on your side.  Then anyone opposing you is opposing the truth, and that’s a bad side to be on in the long run.

I don’t know you, I don’t know you’ll be a perfect doctor, or a doctor at all.  There are realities with which to contend.  But because reality is inescapable, it’s important that we make a choice, in our heads, to counterbalance reality with things that defy it.  Gravity is a reality, but humans fly.  The language we’re exchanging, the fillings in our teeth, the pavement on the road outside, everywhere you look, for better or for worse, you’re going to see evidence that accepting reality is not a human’s tendency, and not what we’re good at, and not, in my speculation, what God or Natural Selection hired us to do.  We’ve been hired, by this universe, to dream, to aspire, to make things that weren’t real real - and because that involves a lot of failure, we’re damn good at doing that, too.

Without the benefit of details, I say stay the course.  I say keep failing.  Fall flat on your face, feel every scrape, roll in the dirt and scream in frustration.  Tell your mother you love her but the fact is, she either raised a doctor or she raised a girl that’s going to fail, spectacularly, at it, and in either case, she’s done her part.  Go fail that test a fourth time.  And get it on the fifth.  Or sixth.  Push this thing to the absolute limit, make them create a new law against your level of desire, make them arrest you for wanting to be a doctor, and when they let you out, run to fail the test again, so that when you’re slipping away from this reality, which could happen at any time, you’re not spending your last moments thinking anything but “well, I did my best.”  Also, watch Rick and Morty on Adult Swim in December.

read this…Matt. I think you’re the only person who reads my tumblr posts. Or maybe not.

I feel like everyone hurts me and they don't care. my feelings don't matter to anyone. I feel like I care so much and love other people so much, but nobody cares or loves me. I don't know what's wrong with me.
Anonymous

emilyvgordon:

Your feelings do matter. 

But it’s never been about the love you get back. It’s always supposed to be about the love you give out. If you’re focusing only on what you get in return, you’re missing out on the best part. 

Tenacious A.P.

I was driving home on a Friday night so late, it was also a Saturday morning. I wish I could tell you it was from an awesome party or a hot date, heck I wish I could say I was just coming home from school. But I wasn’t, I was coming home from the last place I wanted to be on a Friday, my job at Taco Bell. Me and my car were low on fuel, but we finally made it to my house. As I walked toward my house, I was greeted with growls from my dogs, who thought I was an intruder until they saw it was me. I entered the dark house and went straight to my room to make sure I am to go back to work in the morning. I took off my work clothes, tossing them in the laundry room, then went straight to sleep on my big comfortable bed. That’s when I fell into the one place where I am free, my dreams.

I woke up the next morning still a little tired, but got wide awake when I saw the time on my digital clock. I was so tired that night I didn’t remember to set my alarm or even when that I had got on my bed. With just a few minutes to get ready, I jumped from my bed and gathered my work clothes, I didn’t have time to wash, and anything else I needed. After I threw my clothes on and made sure I had everything, I rushed to my car and started towards work. When I pulled into the Taco Bell parking, I quickly made sure I looked appropriate and headed into work.

When I entered the heavily air conditioned Taco Bell, the smell of the meat reminded me I didn’t eat breakfast, making hungry. The lobby was empty, except for one of the manager’s young wife and infant child. I quickly went behind the counter and clocked in a couple minutes late. The usual day shift workers were getting things ready for the lunch rush. I was assigned to watch front counter and keep the lobby clean. 

When I heard someone come in, I got behind the counter and tried to smile happily. The person was a round middle aged man wearing sunglasses, a typical look for a Taco Bell customer. But to my surprise the man said he was a new employee and started today. He was given a uniform to change into and then went in the back to sign some things. There was something strange about the new guy, like I had seen him before. Then the head manager lead the new guy to the expediting area and told me to teach him how to expedite. 

I turned and walked to expediting area and got a good look at the guy. That’s when I realized he looked like Jack Black. He introduced himself as Jack and also sounded like him, but it had to be a coincidence. I told him everything he needed to know about how to work expediting. He then asked what my name was.

“My name is Andrew, but everyone calls me A.P.” I told him

“Well thank you A.P., for teaching me the ways of expediting” Jack said as he held his hand out. We shook hands and I told him if needed help to come to me.

Later that day a whole team of sports jerks came in to eat. They were ordering a lot of food and making my lobby a mess. But after a guy started yelling at me about his order, I really felt like I was in the mucky muck. Then I heard a powerful voice tell the guy to stop, I turned and saw it was Jack.  The guy said no and went back to yelling at me.  That’s when Jack ripped off his uniform revealing that he was the hero, Wonder boy. 

“Hey, I told you to stop” said Wonder boy as walked up to the guy.

“Why should I” asked the guy

“Cause me and Young Nasty Man, will blow up your mind if you don’t” replied Wonder Boy as Young Nasty Man, a.k.a Kyle Gass, rose behind to counter out of nowhere.

“Oh yah, I liked to see that” laughed the guy

The two heroes just looked at each other and nodded. They pulled up their guitars and started playing. The song they played was indescribable, but it was awesome enough to stop all other noise. Once the song was over it was silent for a few seconds, then the ground start shaking. Wonder Boy and Young Nasty Man took my hands and flew me out of the mucky muck. I looked back and saw the store before it exploded and felt free.

I woke up the next morning still a little tired, but got wide awake when I saw the time on my digital clock. I was so tired that night I didn’t remember to set my alarm or even when that I had got on my bed. With just a few minutes to get ready, I jumped from my bed and gathered my work clothes, I didn’t have time to wash, and anything else I needed. After I threw my clothes on and made sure I had everything, I rushed to my car and started towards work. As I pulled into the Taco Bell parking, I thought about my dream I had where I was freed.

#watchcommunity

britttaperry:

I know what you’re all thinking. “what the hell is this watchcommunity thing?”

well there’s been loads of posts about it already but here’s the deal:

watchcommunity is a project my good buddy amy has started up which started yesterday (december 1st). if you already watch community or doctor who or whatever, you’re probably already following her but anyway.

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jonahray:

I can’t wait for tonight’s SNL.

Hello. Its louis here. I’m clacking this to you on my phone in my dressing room here at studio 8H, right in 30 rockefeller center, in Manhattan, new york city, new york, america, world, current snapshot of all existence everywhere.

Tonight I’m hosting…

EMO Andrew

I give up it’s not worth it anymore I can’t stand not being understood for the things I like and the things I do, because all it’s given me is pats on the head and ‘hey good for you’s. I don’t want to be me I to be wanted and if I could be something someone wanted I would throw myself away. What’s the point of being me when I don’t even like me. If I’d known that it would just be me vs. everyone else I wouldn’t of tried. I didn’t want to be the opposition, I thought I was helping by the the truth, and instead of defending myself just give in to everyone elses truth. Instead I choose to be true to myself and now all I have is myself. Alone not wanted, not needed, not loved, and not able to change. I don’t care anymore I tire of being the enemy, just tell me what I have to be.

Shit

You ever take a shit so big you’re afraid to flush? You finish up and turn around to admire your work to find something so big it might as well call you mom. And the first rule of motherhood is never flush your child cause you know it’s going to fuck up your pipes and the last thing you want to do is call a plumber to fix it and see his face when he finds the problem, which doesn’t take long since there’s enough human manure to fertilize two whole farms in the pipes. He acts surprised, nervous and somewhat impressed like you caught Bigfoot with you crapper, and recommends just locking the whole bathroom off from the rest of the world and from now on just go outside. You ever have a shit like that? Cause I haven’t, but I imagine that would probably be the closest thing to childbirth a male could experience. Except there’s no shit control pills or a shit control patch that you put on your asshole so it comes out like ice cream. Plus I am pretty sure men can’t have a shit abortion and even if men could there would be little to no controversy because no one would care.

Last Place You Look.

You ever lose something and you have trouble finding and the longer you look the more you become convinced that someone has stolen it, and as you’re going through everything for the fifth time you’re slowly convincing yourself that someone has stolen something of yours and you’re going to have to confront this person and not to their “I didn’t take you Tom Petty CD” and “you’re paranoid” bullshit. At least until you stumble on the place you hid whatever you were looking for so you wouldn’t lose it and nobody would steal it. They you look at the physical and mental damage looking for it have caused, but it was still worth it so you could finally rock out to American Girl.