When I was 5 or so I wanted to be a video game designer or something.
Now I'm a philosophy major.
Seeing as my other two wants ended up being hobbies of mine this was the only other one I seriously considered.
It was for the good of society that I didn't end up a surgeon me thinks.
Instead I have a massive office full of fucking awesome equipment and the freedom that comes with being the only one who can work the confounded stuff. I love my job.
Edit: I felt guilty and actually made an effort. Besides, I love my job and the worshipping that comes with it. I reward my faithful with lots of cake and biscuits (cookies to the non-Aussies).
what I got
coulda done worse
Magic Hate Ball
Ever since my parents took me to see Daylight when I was six:
Ever since the recession kicked my town's ass:
Unemployment is like a waiting room, except you don't know when your appointment is.
Wanted to be: Rockstar Astronaut
Became: Lifeless nerd.
Wanted: to be someone who finds new artist geniuses and makes them famous, thereby affecting culture and history! And the best writer in the world who is an awesome activist living in a Big City.
Reality: I had to stop going to college as an art history major; now I'm spending time in a mental wellness facility, living in an apartment owned by them, on government money, due to extreme anxiety. But I get to learn about and hang out with a lot of poor and homeless mentally ill people who I never would have met otherwise. And there are handsome counselors.
Carl The Shivan
What I wanted:
What I became:
Celebrate diversity and inclusiveness at your next protest by not calling Donald Trump a nasty little-hands pisspig bitch.
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