Running Toward Life |
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." — Mark Twain Archive |
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Noteselphabaforpresidentofgallifrey:
Never forget. R.I.P.
THE SKATES AND THE VELCRO BALL THING
THERE’S A TAMAGOTCHI APP NOW BITCHES
SERIOUSLY MY FAVORITE POST EVER
OMG HIT CLIPS!
Literally had everything not even kidding
BOP IT! That shit was addicting.
Nostalgia just punched me in the face with a sock ‘em bopper.
(via brigherthanthesun)
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Typewriter Series #389 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for tired eyes:
On the occasion of my death, how will I be remembered?
Will it be sobs and soaked handkerchiefs or will it be laughter
and heads shaking in collective acknowledgment
to the silly and completely ridiculous stories that will be told?
On the occasion of my death, how will I meet the one that will
usher me through the crossroads of this life and the next?
Will it be with a bang, with a silent whimper, or with my forehead
to the clouds a grin upon my fading mouth and my hand reaching
out first to take her hand before she asks for mine?
Will it be painful, will it hurt, will I scream for it to be over
or will I, pushing through frozen bits of frozen moments,
understand the reason for the pain and the explanation behind
the hurt and instead turn and bask in it, the final sensation
this skin and these bones will ever feel this beautiful lap
through a breathtaking life.
On the occasion of my death, what will be the weather on the instant
and dizzying transition into the occasion of my rebirth?
Will I enter through a storm or through the gentle breeze of
a sunny day? Will the rain drops be my baptism and will my first
scream be only the echo of my last scream in the flesh I used to
wear, and wear proudly?
On the occasion of my death, will the explosion be felt across the
planet or will it be the single falling star spied by a single
lonely soul sitting on the roof of some creaking house in the
cool early Autumn night? Will they feel me flicker and fade
and burst back into glowing life or will I just fall into line
as the next star in a crowd of many that will make up some
constellation?
Will sailors guide themselves by me, will two young souls
freshly in love wish upon me when I come out while the blue
still hangs in the sky and will I feel those wishes?
On the occasion of my death, what will become of all that was?
What will become of all I was to be
on the occasion of my death?
-Tyler Knott Gregson- -
Link
The Healthy Sex Talk: Teaching Kids Consent, Ages 1-21
A list of parenting action items, created in the hope that we can raise a generation of children who have less rape and sexual assault in their lives…from toddlers to teens.
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Notes81,890 playsHo Hey (The Lumineers Cover) — Lennon and Maisy
(Source: rlyhiptunez, via loveyourchaos)
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Notes"It’s a morning race
between the sunlight and I
to kiss your cheek first." -
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Notes"They tell us that the prisons are overpopulated. But what if it were the population that were being overimprisoned?"Michel Foucault (via lacanno)
(via loveyourchaos)
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Notes"I will forget you and if that doesn’t sound romantic, it’s because it isn’t. It’s a simple inevitability, a truth colder than the last night we spent together. Remember that night? When I woke up in the morning and felt nothing familiar, that’s when I knew it was over for good. At least, that’s what I think happened. I fill in the blanks sometimes because I’ve already begun to forget.I remember the color of your hair, but not the color of your laugh. I remember your name, that one’s easy; I don’t remember how your parents say it in their native tongue (I forgot that one the second you told me). I remember that you exist, that we spent some of our time together for what now feels like a blip, a sneeze, a little nothing. But I forget everything else, like what brought us together and what drove us apart. And mostly everything that happened in between that.
I forget what it’s like to kiss you and what it’s like to want to. I forget what it feels like to hold your hand, if we ever even held hands, it feels like we didn’t. I forget what it’s like to trust you, to believe in you, to need you. I forget what it’s like to think that I’d never forget any of it. For a long time, I thought I never would. You and I both know you left ghosts behind, but they seem to have found someone new to haunt. Maybe it’s you.
The inside jokes have already dissolved into unordered words with no punchline. The gifts have been reduced to objects whose saving grace is their monetary value, no meaning and all function. There are photographs, somewhere, but I’m not the person posed in them anymore and whoever that is sitting next to me, all dressed up in your costume and wearing your mask, well, that’s not you either. But what do I know about who you are? I forget that part, if I ever knew it to begin with.
I won’t forget you the way I won’t forget the Blizzard of ’96 or the pain of getting a wisdom tooth removed. Like something that happened to me once and then unhappened to me and then didn’t matter anymore.
But I will forget you where it counts, like in the eyes and in the mornings and in the moments that felt and looked and tasted a lot like love. I will forget you in those places because I already have."Stephanie Georgopulos (via finedineonmyvegangenitalia)
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(via bowtostroke)
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Notes"But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful."Ann Druyan, on her husband, Carl Sagan (via finedineonmyvegangenitalia)
(Source: cside, via finedineonmyvegangenitalia)
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Notes Moonlight Sonata: Panic and anxiety information and resources master post -
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I’m writing about lube right now- Check out this chart to break it down!
Really helpful information!
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LovePalz, Internet-Connected Sex Toys For Long-Distance Lovers
This is a really neat concept! If you’re in a long distance relationship, definitely check this out!
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Notes"The reason that the rich were so rich, Vimes reasoned, was because they managed to spend less money.
Take boots, for example. He earned thirty-eight dollars a month plus allowances. A really good pair of leather boots cost fifty dollars. But an affordable pair of boots, which were sort of OK for a season or two and then leaked like hell when the cardboard gave out, cost about ten dollars. Those were the kind of boots Vimes always bought, and wore until the soles were so thin that he could tell where he was in Ankh-Morpork on a foggy night by the feel of the cobbles.
But the thing was that good boots lasted for years and years. A man who could afford fifty dollars had a pair of boots that’d still be keeping his feet dry in ten years’ time, while the poor man who could only afford cheap boots would have spent a hundred dollars on boots in the same time and would still have wet feet.
This was the Captain Samuel Vimes ‘Boots’ theory of socioeconomic unfairness.
"Terry Pratchett, Men At Arms (via idrabear)
This is one of the best breakdowns I’ve ever seen of how expensive it is to be poor.
(via vulgarweed)
This is why I love Terry Pratchett.
(via ablipintime)
(via loveyourchaos)
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Projeto “De dentro pra fora” by Marielle Gallant on Flickr.
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This beautiful animal is Red-bellied short-necked turtle. It is found in Australia and Papua New Guinea, and in Australia it is highly...
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Crystal Renn in Paradis Magazine.
