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looking back: srsfunny: Looking back at the years, keeps getting worst
 looking back: srsfunny:

Looking back at the years, keeps getting worst

srsfunny: Looking back at the years, keeps getting worst

looking back: awesomacious: Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.
 looking back: awesomacious:

Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.

awesomacious: Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.

looking back: *intense staring and then looking back at mom*
 looking back: *intense staring and then looking back at mom*

*intense staring and then looking back at mom*

looking back: Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.
 looking back: Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.

Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.

looking back: Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.
 looking back: Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.

Did some looking back. I smiled and made this.

looking back: thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
 looking back: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejor...

looking back: People always told me "everything should come easy to you!" "you are such a gifted child" So I worked extra hard to not disappoint anyone. I didn't want people to think they were wrong about me. I wanted to live up to their experctations. You could do so well if you tried a little harder It felt like I worked much harder than the other kids ADHD-ALIEN.com Suddenly, I felt so conceited for thinking I was working hard. I had forgotten to write my name on the paper. My words were missing random letters ADHD-ALIEN.com So I tried again But no matter what I did those careless mistakes kept sneaking in and again I always had issues understanding instructions Everyone else seemed to understand them I have a hard time under- standing half knowledge. IM NOT GOING TO SCHOOL!! Hey, it's time to Just from trying to not have to repeat a year. Looking back, I think I had my first burnout at 16. ADHD-ALIEN. com It was easier at University. I could choose subjects I LOVED But even then, I would just randomly forget things I knew I can't even rely myself. on So no one took me serious ADHD-ALIEN.com stop being lazy S It was as if being good at one that I was just lazy with the others. thing was proof why dont you take ithis seriously 'Everyone else can do this So I tried harder. And worked hard enough to render my Hand useless for 8 Months I had spent so many years trying to figure out what people want me to do That I completely forgot how to know what I want ADHD-ALIEN.com Since I couldn't figure myself out, I just worked more. Taking a break and not meeting those expectations... After all, my entire life was based on expectations fulfilling ....felt worse than death Dear Alien It's not that you can achieve things despite having ADHĎ It's that you can achieve things despite no one believing that you try. faulty We are not stupid, lazy or We are just not seen. ADHD-ALIEN.com adhd-alien: This is what happens to kids with ADHD who, instead of getting help and treatment, get told to try harder.
 looking back: People always told me
 "everything should
 come easy to you!"
 "you
 are such a gifted child"
 So I worked extra hard to
 not disappoint anyone.
 I didn't want people to
 think they were wrong
 about me.
 I wanted to live up to
 their experctations.
 You could do so
 well if you tried
 a little harder
 It felt like I worked
 much harder than
 the other kids
 ADHD-ALIEN.com
 Suddenly, I felt so
 conceited for thinking I
 was working hard.
 I had forgotten to write my
 name on the paper.
 My words were missing
 random letters
 ADHD-ALIEN.com

 So I tried again
 But no matter what I did
 those careless mistakes
 kept sneaking in
 and again
 I always had issues
 understanding instructions
 Everyone else seemed
 to understand them
 I have a hard time under-
 standing half knowledge.
 IM NOT GOING
 TO SCHOOL!!
 Hey, it's time to
 Just from trying to not
 have to repeat a year.
 Looking back, I think I had my first burnout at 16.
 ADHD-ALIEN. com
 It was easier at University.
 I could choose subjects I LOVED
 But even then, I would just
 randomly forget things I knew
 I can't even
 rely
 myself.
 on
 So no one took me serious
 ADHD-ALIEN.com

 stop being
 lazy
 S
 It was as if being good
 at one
 that I was just lazy
 with the others.
 thing
 was proof
 why dont you take
 ithis seriously
 'Everyone else
 can do this
 So I tried harder.
 And worked hard enough to render
 my Hand useless for 8 Months
 I had spent so many years
 trying to figure out what
 people want me to do
 That I completely forgot
 how to know what I want
 ADHD-ALIEN.com
 Since I couldn't figure myself
 out, I just worked more.
 Taking a break and
 not meeting those
 expectations...
 After all, my entire life
 was based on
 expectations
 fulfilling
 ....felt worse than death
 Dear Alien
 It's not that you can
 achieve things despite
 having ADHĎ
 It's that you can achieve
 things despite no one
 believing that you try.
 faulty
 We are not stupid, lazy
 or
 We are just not seen.
 ADHD-ALIEN.com
adhd-alien:



This is what happens to kids with ADHD who, instead of getting help and treatment, get told to try harder.

adhd-alien: This is what happens to kids with ADHD who, instead of getting help and treatment, get told to try harder.