Thought Catalog


You love class because it’s an outlet to being the douchey artist you sometimes want to be. You enjoy the pretentious discussion you have because, like all artists, you have a little pretentious asshole inside of you that can only be set free around other secretly pretentious assholes like yourself.

In college, surrounded by six cups of coffee, consecutive late nights, deadly deadlines, group projects, midterms, finals, friends, fake friends, friends-who-you’re-not-really-friends-with-but-don’t-want-to-see-die friends, rejection, failure, success and happiness, it’s the best time to be unsure of yourself.

“I hate James. I wish he would quit.” I read that in an email of one of my co-workers. He accidentally sent it to me but it was intended for another co-worker. They hated me. I wanted to quit.