August192014

philargitta:

letssaverockandroll:

wowpatrickstump:

i have no words

oh my god

oh my g

(via swedegrl)

(132,335 plays)

9PM

neilnevins:

nathanael-platier:

We freed them…but at what cost?

that ball wasn’t there to trap them

it was to protect us

(via g-iggle)

9PM
fuckingconversations:

karenfelloutofbedagain:

theonewholovesbooks:

introverted-reader:

This is so beautiful :’)

Wow

I fucking love people who find street-side self-employment to do what they love. When I was in high school, there was a kid in my AP Bio class, really smart and intelligent and loved biology, but he was just so disillusioned with the academic situation in America that he didn’t even want to go to college. Our bio teacher asked him how he was going to find a career in biology without a degree, and he said he’d buy an electrophoresis kit and set it up in a city square and just let people watch the DNA fragments travel through the gel, and set out a hat or whatever to take donations. A biology street-performer. We all laughed, but last summer I was in Boulder, and there was this man on Pearl Street, along with the magicians and harpists and such, and he had a high-powered telescope. You could look through it and see the planets and stars in broad daylight, and he’d point them all out to you and give you a little lesson. He had a hat out and a cardboard sign asking for three dollars to look through the telescope, and he had a line of people. There’s something incredibly inspiring to me about the people who want to do something so badly that they’ll do it on the street if they have to. 

I saw a guy giving free compliments, and taking donations on the street. He would wax poetic about the beauty of the people walking by - their hair, their clothing, “the light shines off the blue of your eyes, while the skies of venice weep in shame, to wish they could match a shade so clear and bright.” Dude had class.
No matter what gender or age passed by, he had something kind to say to them. 

fuckingconversations:

karenfelloutofbedagain:

theonewholovesbooks:

introverted-reader:

This is so beautiful :’)

Wow

I fucking love people who find street-side self-employment to do what they love. When I was in high school, there was a kid in my AP Bio class, really smart and intelligent and loved biology, but he was just so disillusioned with the academic situation in America that he didn’t even want to go to college. Our bio teacher asked him how he was going to find a career in biology without a degree, and he said he’d buy an electrophoresis kit and set it up in a city square and just let people watch the DNA fragments travel through the gel, and set out a hat or whatever to take donations. A biology street-performer. We all laughed, but last summer I was in Boulder, and there was this man on Pearl Street, along with the magicians and harpists and such, and he had a high-powered telescope. You could look through it and see the planets and stars in broad daylight, and he’d point them all out to you and give you a little lesson. He had a hat out and a cardboard sign asking for three dollars to look through the telescope, and he had a line of people. There’s something incredibly inspiring to me about the people who want to do something so badly that they’ll do it on the street if they have to. 

I saw a guy giving free compliments, and taking donations on the street. He would wax poetic about the beauty of the people walking by - their hair, their clothing, “the light shines off the blue of your eyes, while the skies of venice weep in shame, to wish they could match a shade so clear and bright.” Dude had class.

No matter what gender or age passed by, he had something kind to say to them. 

(Source: randombookblog, via swedegrl)

9PM

princess-connorkenway:

juliaew:

awh man everyone made so many “MOVING TO CANADA!!!” jokes before and now that Obama won I’m picturing a sad Canada just standing there with a pillow and sleeping bag like “so you guys aren’t coming over, eh? oh… that’s okay….”

image

image

…they were jokes?

(via swedegrl)

9PM
9PM
villainery:

awwww-cute:

What can I get for you?

4 bottles of vodka and 2 packs of Marlboro reds

villainery:

awwww-cute:

What can I get for you?

4 bottles of vodka and 2 packs of Marlboro reds

(via ruinedchildhood)

9PM
thediluteddreams:

flagrantnonsense:

Hey kids wanna buy some drugs

Welcome to Florida

thediluteddreams:

flagrantnonsense:

Hey kids wanna buy some drugs

Welcome to Florida

(Source: toastedaz, via ruinedchildhood)

9PM
connecticutest:

This is on a real episode of icarly

connecticutest:

This is on a real episode of icarly

(via ruinedchildhood)

9PM
catastrophic-fallen-angel:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity
Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.
However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.
Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!
But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.
The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
But you remain.
Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.
All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.
But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.
Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. 
Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 
OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
A LAMINATED
PAPER
T OW E L
IDK MAN,
I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book
and the pages of that book
were made out of
laminated
paper towels


DO ITFUCKING DO IT BECAUSE NO ONE WILL UNDERSTAND WHYEXCEPT WE WOULDWE WOULD BECAUSE OF THIS POSTAND DAMN ITLL BE THE DEEPEST SHIT TO EVER DEEP

catastrophic-fallen-angel:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity

Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.

However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.

Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.

So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!

But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.

Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.

The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.

But you remain.

Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.

All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.

But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?

Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.

The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.

Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever.

Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 

OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON

AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN

A LAMINATED

PAPER

T OW E L

IDK MAN,

I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book

and the pages of that book

were made out of

laminated

paper towels

DO IT
FUCKING DO IT BECAUSE NO ONE WILL UNDERSTAND WHY

EXCEPT WE WOULD

WE WOULD BECAUSE OF THIS POST

AND DAMN ITLL BE THE DEEPEST SHIT TO EVER DEEP

(Source: portal-mouth, via deductiontoseduction)

9PM

ruinedchildhood:

I want a relationship like this.

(Source: elizabethgillies)

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