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Ψ For more interesting psychology posts like this, follow @mypsychology Ψ

If you like to read topics about Psychology, visit @psych2go‘s website here at psych2go.net

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✧ Visit our website: psych2go.net ✧

Ψ Follow @psych2go​ for more Ψ

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am i doing this right

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Funny Memes. Updated Daily! ⇢ FunnyJoke.tumblr.com 😀

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Group projects in school weren’t meant to teach you teamwork, they were meant to teach you how to deal with the incompetence of your coworkers in the workplace.

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when alan sings the high come oooon in master and servant reblog if you agree

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Alan Wilder's accent

reblog if you agree

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When Alan Wilder plays drums

Reblog if you agree

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tag yourselves as weird tweets from alan

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Thanks to: @graceful-swan-of-never @leadmeoneternally @boys-say-go

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when alan hit the things

reblog if u agree

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hmmm

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what I say: being a musician is wonderful

what I mean: being a musician is like walking along a riverbank in some dark little corner of Kenya. Your music teacher being the giant hippo that may or may not tear out of the brush in a ball of furious energy and thunder and beat you upside the head for playing a wrong note.

being a musician is like standing on a high ledge, and every stroke of the bow is a jump. The hanging note is the soundtrack to your freefall and when the music is over the world is a little darker, little colder and you feel like your brains have been splattered on the pavement like the code red mountain dew that kept you alive during six hour practice sessions.

But then, you look out at the faces staring up at you and the world just sort of sticks there, suspended in the air like a note of such purity that it shatters the past, reverses the fall and brings light back into the universe. In that moment before the applause your brain swims back into your skull, like so many lazy fish, tired of the endless battle upstream but never giving up.

And as their crescendo of approval washes over you, you feel it all: their sadness or joy, or maybe a bittersweet mixture of the two, a menthol cigarette after a long ass day. In the moment you feel it all: the triumph, the wonder and the bone tiredness. You look at your instrument and you feel it all: the blood, sweat and tears that have gone into a relationship with something that is nothing more than a block of wood, metal or plastic, yet seems to have a life all of its’ own somehow.

Later, when you’re asleep and don’t know it, one hand will curl and uncurl, feebly, sleepily reaching for your instrument.

Because being a musician is hard, and it’s terrifying, but it’s also full of wonder and beauty that others will never know.

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When the key goes from nice to not-so-nice:

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Drunk Mozart #2

ALLE GEHT MIR AM ARSCH VORBEI

I LIEB MEIN ARSCH LECK'N

JEDER LICKT MEIN ARSCH

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If the Earth was flat, why haven’t the cats pushed everything off by now?