lovestampede: Don’t feel bad. Not about the fact...

lovestampede:

Don’t feel bad. Not about the fact that you didn’t pay enough attention during your college psych course. Not about the fact that you TOOK a college psych course instead of a course that might actually be of some help to you. Not about the fact that you went to a college where professors, for the most part, let you do what you want. Not because you watched too much TV as a kid and didn’t read enough. Not because when you were reading, it was only Encyclopedia Brown. Not because you don’t understand why certain paintings are good paintings. Not because you quit a job for another job and then got fired from that job. Not because you’re not really self-sufficient. Not because you never give money to the really nice transvestite homeless lady. Not because you spend most of your free time on Netflix. Not because sometimes you have to go back and read paragraphs twice. Not because you get tongue-tied. Not because you grind your teeth. Not because you can’t remember to take vitamins. Not because you don’t go to the gym enough to outsmart the membership fee. Not because you broke up with someone for no reason. Not because you’re not writing a novel. Not because you’re not writing a screenplay. Not because you don’t know what you want. Not because some of your friends have salaries. Not because you’re still on your father’s health insurance. Not because you start things you never finish. Not about the amount of black and white movies you never watched. Not because you’ve wasted so much time. Not because you didn’t go to grad school. Not because you have no interest in publishing houses. Not because you watch whole seasons in a row. Not because you sometimes forget to read the newspaper. Not because of all the skills you could have picked up. Not because of all the instruments you could have learned to play. Not because of all the languages you could have learned to speak. Not because you can only write about things that interest you. Not about your missed connections. Not about your dead relatives. Not about the sodas you drink and the water you forget to drink. Not because you fell in love with idiots. Not because you thought you were in love and realized you weren’t. Not because of the shoes you bought and never wore. Not about anything.