superwhoachievementlockednarwhal:

zanetehaiden:

capslockapocalypse:

zanetehaiden:

Imagine if we lived in a world where you could see the exact date when everyone is going to die except for yourself

And then one day people start acting nice to you. Like, really nice.

WRITE.
A STORY.

I did

you should read the story

(via covocal)

electriky: Once you get this you must share five random facts about yourself. Then you must pass this onto your ten favorite followers :)

1. I have a problem with lying to myself
2. I try to surround myself with people to distract me
3. I love nature
4. I don’t believe in god
5. I think almost all sports are fun but shouldn’t be broadcasted for other people to watch

intrepidus-scolere:

serenity2132:

amordragon:

Since her death in 1979, the woman who discovered what the universe is made of has not so much as received a memorial plaque. Her newspaper obituaries do not mention her greatest discovery. […] Every high school student knows that Isaac Newton discovered gravity, that Charles Darwin discovered evolution, and that Albert Einstein discovered the relativity of time. But when it comes to the composition of our universe, the textbooks simply say that the most abundant atom in the universe is hydrogen. And no one ever wonders how we know.
Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, a truly extraordinary woman.

So I take it she was given the Hedy Lamarr/Rosalind Franklin treatment? Fucking assholes. So you know what?
BADASSLADYSIGNALBOOSTGO!

I GOT SO MAD ONCE I FOUND OUT ABOUT ROSALIND FRANKLIN.
Guy puts a sign out asking people to help sharpie his old Volkswagen, the result is awesome.

daleks2dope:

daisyazuras:

emdefmek:

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

image

http://imgur.com/a/4S2zN

I hope he clear coated that so the sharpie doesn’t wash away.

and you’re telling me not a single person drew a dick

(via radicalsummerr)

tylrfx:

x
toodeepforyou:

tits-mcgeeeee:

rayladelasoul:

I can kinda hear the blast in my head when they collide.

Sound doesn’t travel in space. You wouldn’t hear a thing.

then how the fuck do you explain all the sounds in star wars checkmate motherfucker
libutron:

Birds on the Bar | ©Yve Assad
A sandbar off the coast of South Carolina near Edisto Island is a heaven for a variety of migrating birds.

oomshi:

vegay:

dONT BE A TEACHER IF U DON’T LIKE FUCKING KIDS????

this can be taken two ways

(Source: plnts, via stark--bleiben)

p1nkm4n:

accidentally woke up at 4 but i watched the sunrise

greatwhiteprivilege:

do u ever realize how ugly u really are and it just ruins ur day

(via the-absolute-funniest-posts)

vintagelittleteacup:

california-studs:

fastenyourfuckingbelts:

polluteify:

im-simply-me:

1hey:

it hurt when I stumbled across her.  she was like broken glass all along the floor.  but it was beautiful and my curiosity got the best of me.  I remember looking at her and all I could see was pain.  she had this insane look of desperation; you could almost feel it. and yet her eyes were still hollow; like the life had been sucked out of her.  I wanted to pick up her pieces.  I wanted to put her back together. and so I tried. I really did. I got a little cut along the way.  the more I tried to fix her the more fragile I became myself but I didn’t care.  I wanted to see her happy.  every time I made her laugh I thought about how I wanted to make her laugh forever.  she was getting better.  eventually she was put together enough to get up and walk away.  but she didn’t take me with her.  and I’ve been stuck sitting here where I first found her. wondering if the pieces left on the floor are hers or mine. I should probably get the fuck up.

THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL OHMYGOD

wow..

This actually fucking hurt to read.

THIS HURT SO MUCH TO READ

Oh my god, this is so heartbreaking yet so fucking beautiful to read. Just wow, I’m speechless.
"

My creative writing professor told me to stop writing about love.
I asked him why and he said
“because you have turned it over and over in your hands,
felt every angle, every fault, every inch, every bruise. You have ruined it for yourself.”

I spent the next 3 weeks writing about
science and space. Stars exploding. Getting sucked into a black hole. How much I wished I could sleep inside of that nothingness without being annihilated. What an exploding star would taste like. If it would make our stomachs glow like fireflies, or tingle and shake like pop rocks under our tongue.

My creative writing professor told me that those poems weren’t what he was looking for.
He tells me to stop writing about outer space. Stop writing about science.
Again, I ask him why. Again , he says “You have ruined it for yourself.”
I spend the next three weeks writing about my mother, how we are told we can’t make homes inside of other human beings, but the foreclosure sign on my mother’s empty womb tells me that women who give birth know a different, more painful truth.

My creative writing professor tells me I am both talented and hopeless, that everything I write is both visceral and empty, a walking circus with no animals inside but a beautiful trapeze artist with a broken hip selling popcorn in the entrance-way.

He tells me to stop writing about my mother. I don’t ask why. I pick up my books and my notepad and I leave his office with my war stories tucked under my tongue like an exploding star, like the taste of the last person I ever loved, like my mother’s baby thermometer, and I do not look back.
We are all writing about our mothers, our lovers, the empty space that we will never be able to breathe in. We are all carrying stones in our pockets and tossing them back and forth in our hands, trying to explain the heaviness
and we will never stop writing about love, about black holes, about how quiet it must have been inside the chaos of my mother’s belly, inside the chaos of his arms, inside the chaos of the spaces in every poem I have ever written.

None of this is ruined.
Do not listen to them when they tell you that it is.

"
my creative writng professor told me to stop writing about love | Caitlyn Siehl (via alonesomes)

(via bootyarse)