ReinyDays
shadow-of-a-whisper:

fashioninfographics:

A visual Coat glossary

This is actually quite useful for writers. Also, I want a million capelets.


I’ve got reefer madness…

shadow-of-a-whisper:

fashioninfographics:

A visual Coat glossary

This is actually quite useful for writers. Also, I want a million capelets.

I’ve got reefer madness…

cumberbitchsandwich:

cartersostoopid:

remember when the teacher dragged a tv on wheels like this kind of thing

image

and you knew it was gonna be an awesome day

is anyone on here even old enough to remember this?

I miss those days… O.O

All my feels for this series.

finnickodeers:

boazpriestly:

coldswarkids:

edwardspoonhands:

thelegendofkungjew:

doxian:

d-dinosaur:

rknjl:

newvagabond:

NO “TELEPHONES”. TALK TO EACH OTHER. FACE TO FACE ONLY. WRITE A LETTER. SEND A TELEGRAM TO YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 1860. LIVE.

NO ‘WRITING’… TALK TO EACH OTHER. THROW A ROCK AT YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 10,000 BCE.  LIVE.

URGGA. ROU GRAAURH. RUH.
<SMACKS HANDS ON WALL WITH PAINT.>

NO ‘HIGHER BRAIN FUNCTIONS’ …USE YOUR REPTILIAN BRAIN
EAT YOUR MOM’S CORPSE SHE DIED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SUSTENANCE
PRETEND YOU HAVE JUST AROSE FROM THE SEA
SURVIVE

NO “MULTICELLULAR TRAITS”….. USE YOUR SYMBIOTIC MITOCHONDRIA
REPRODUCE ASEXUALLY, YOU’RE YOUR OWN PARENT
PRETEND IT’S 2BYA
EVOLVE

NO “LIFE.” USE FUNDAMENTAL PHYSICAL FORCES TO FORM SPHERICAL OBJECTS REVOLVING AROUND ONE ANOTHER IN SPACE. 
FUSE HYDROGEN INTO HELIUM USING GRAVITATIONAL PRESSURE TO PRODUCE HEAT AND LIGHT. 
PRETEND IT’S 4.5BYA.
STABILIZE INTO EQUILIBRIA

NO “MATTER”.  EXIST IN THE VOID WITHOUT PURPOSE OR MEANING.
THERE IS NO “YOU”, ONLY THE VAST CONCEPT OF NOTHING.
TIME DOES NOT EXIST.
BE.


and now, the weather




And now, the weather. And I was suddenly once again practicing my Cecil impression…

finnickodeers:

boazpriestly:

coldswarkids:

edwardspoonhands:

thelegendofkungjew:

doxian:

d-dinosaur:

rknjl:

newvagabond:

NO “TELEPHONES”. TALK TO EACH OTHER. FACE TO FACE ONLY. WRITE A LETTER. SEND A TELEGRAM TO YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 1860. LIVE.

NO ‘WRITING’… TALK TO EACH OTHER. THROW A ROCK AT YOUR MOM. PRETEND IT’S 10,000 BCE.  LIVE.

URGGA. ROU GRAAURH. RUH.

<SMACKS HANDS ON WALL WITH PAINT.>

NO ‘HIGHER BRAIN FUNCTIONS’ …USE YOUR REPTILIAN BRAIN

EAT YOUR MOM’S CORPSE SHE DIED TO PROVIDE YOU WITH SUSTENANCE

PRETEND YOU HAVE JUST AROSE FROM THE SEA

SURVIVE

NO “MULTICELLULAR TRAITS”….. USE YOUR SYMBIOTIC MITOCHONDRIA

REPRODUCE ASEXUALLY, YOU’RE YOUR OWN PARENT

PRETEND IT’S 2BYA

EVOLVE

NO “LIFE.” USE FUNDAMENTAL PHYSICAL FORCES TO FORM SPHERICAL OBJECTS REVOLVING AROUND ONE ANOTHER IN SPACE. 

FUSE HYDROGEN INTO HELIUM USING GRAVITATIONAL PRESSURE TO PRODUCE HEAT AND LIGHT. 

PRETEND IT’S 4.5BYA.

STABILIZE INTO EQUILIBRIA

NO “MATTER”.  EXIST IN THE VOID WITHOUT PURPOSE OR MEANING.

THERE IS NO “YOU”, ONLY THE VAST CONCEPT OF NOTHING.

TIME DOES NOT EXIST.

BE.

and now, the weather

And now, the weather. And I was suddenly once again practicing my Cecil impression…

theletterwsarseflap:

sara-the-madam:

Massive want 

1. 2&3 . 4  5. 6&7

I… I wouldn’t mind having these.

I…I need new underwear now

wheres-margo:

Singer uses her music video to intriguingly show how fake performers are in videos

Hungarian musician Boggie sits still and sings for her latest music video… So what makes it interesting?

As she performs, her video editor retouches her skin, hair, facial features, and lighting during the song so that by the end everything looks “right”…

(This is actually really cool: Source)

ewchrissy:

oh, look at that. i’ve been impaled.

angryblackman:

"How are your grades?"

"What are you majoring in?"

"Have you got a girlfriend?"

"What do you want to do when you graduate?"

image

When you are hurting, there will always be people who find a way to make it about themselves. If you break your wrist, they’ll complain about a sprained ankle. If you are sad, they’re sadder. If you’re asking for help, they’ll demand more attention.

Here is a fact: I was in a hospital and sobbing into my palms when a woman approached me and asked why I was making so much noise and I managed to stutter that my best friend shot himself in the head and now he was 100% certified dead and she made this little grunt and had the nerve to tell me, “Well now you made me sad.”

When you get angry, there are going to be people who ask you to shut up and sit down, and they’re not going to do it nicely. Theirs are the faces that turn bright red before you have a chance to finish your sentence. They won’t ask you to explain yourself. They’ll be mad that you’re mad and that will be their whole reason alone.

Here is a fact: I was in an alleyway a few weeks ago, stroking my friend’s back as she vomited fourteen tequila shots. “I hate men,” she wheezed as her sides heaved, “I hate all of them.”

I braided her hair so it wouldn’t get caught in the mess. I didn’t correct her and reply that she does in fact love her father and her little brother too, that there are strangers she has yet to meet that will be better for her than any of her shitty ex-boyfriends, that half of our group of friends identifies as male - I could hear each of her bruises in those words and I didn’t ask her to soften the blow when she was trying to buff them out of her skin. She doesn’t hate all men. She never did.

She had the misfortune to be overheard by a drunk guy in an ill-fitting suit, a boy trying to look like a man and leering down my dress as he stormed towards us. “Fuck you, lady,” he said, “Fuck you. Not all men are evil, you know.”

“Thanks,” I told him dryly, pulling on her hand, trying to get her inside again, “See you.”

He followed us. Wouldn’t stop shouting. How dare she get mad. How dare she was hurting. “It’s hard for me too!” he yowled after us. “With fuckers like you, how’s a guy supposed to live?”

Here’s a fact: my father is Cuban and my genes repeat his. Once one of my teachers looked at my heritage and said, “Your skin doesn’t look dirty enough to be a Mexican.”

When my cheeks grew pink and my tongue dried up, someone else in the classroom stood up. “You can’t say that,” he said, “That’s fucking racist. We could report you for that.”

Our teacher turned vicious. “You wanna fail this class? Go ahead. Report me. I was joking. It’s my word against yours. I hate kids like you. You think you’ve got all the power - you don’t. I do.”

Later that kid and I became close friends and we skipped class to do anything else and the two of us were lying on our backs staring up at the sky and as we talked about that moment, he sighed, “I hate white people.” His girlfriend is white and so is his mom. I reached out until my fingers were resting in the warmth of his palm.

He spoke up each time our teacher said something shitty. He failed the class. I stayed silent. I got the A but I wish that I didn’t.

Here is a fact: I think gender is a social construct and people that want to tell others what defines it just haven’t done their homework. I personally happen to have the luck of the draw and am the same gender as my sex, which basically just means society leaves me alone about this one particular thing.

Until I met Alex, who said he hated cis people. My throat closed up. I’m not good at confrontation. I avoided him because I didn’t want to bother him.

One day I was going on a walk and I found him behind our school, bleeding out of the side of his mouth. The only thing I really know is how to patch people up. He winced when the antibacterial cream went across his new wounds. “I hate cis people,” he said weakly.

I looked at him and pushed his hair back from his head. “I understand why you do.”

Here is a fact: anger is a secondary emotion. Anger is how people stop themselves from hurting. Anger is how people stop themselves by empathizing.

It is easy for the drunken man to be mad at my friend. If he says “Hey, fuck you, lady,” he doesn’t have to worry about what’s so wrong about men.

It’s easy for my teacher to fail the kids who speak up. If we’re just smart-ass students, it’s not his fault we fuck up.

It’s easy for me to hate Alex for labeling me as dangerous when I’ve never hurt someone a day in my life. But I’m safe in my skin and his life is at risk just by going to the bathroom. I understand why he says things like that. I finally do.

There’s a difference between the spread of hatred and the frustration of people who are hurting. The thing is, when you are broken, there will always be someone who says “I’m worse, stop talking.” There will always be people who are mad you’re trying to steal the attention. There will always be people who get mad at the same time as you do - they hate being challenged. It changes the rules.

I say I hate all Mondays but my sister was born on one and she’s the greatest joy I have ever known. I say I hate brown but it’s really just the word and how it turns your mouth down - the colour is my hair and my eyes and my favorite sweater. I say I hate pineapple but I still try it again every Easter, just to see if it stings less this year. It’s okay to be sad when you hear someone generalize a group you’re in. But instead of assuming they’re evil and filled with hatred, maybe ask them why they think that way - who knows, you might just end up with a new and kind friend.

By telling the oppressed that their anger is unjustified, you allow the oppression to continue. I know it’s hard to stay calm. I know it’s scary. But you’re coming from the safe place and they aren’t. Just please … Try to be more understanding. /// r.i.d (via inkskinned)

This is beautiful!

3squirrels:

death-limes:

fatass-mcnotits:

theidealisticcynic:

nudityandnerdery:

It’s unfortunate how many people didn’t take this message away from the debate.

Bill Nye was just SO ENTHUSIASTIC about the topic. You could tell.
For God’s sake, the man was trying to teach people about photosynthesis when asked what his favourite colour was. That’s a man that ADORES science and absolutely loves teaching people.
Suddenly, I was 12 and watching a Bill Nye The Science Guy episode at my grandma’s school while she was decorating the gym.

Bill Nye is like the Mister Roger’s of science
he legitimately cares about what he is talking about and enthusiastically encourages people to take something positive away from it

Bill Nye is the Mister Rogers of science
Bob Ross is the Mister Rogers of art
and Mister Rogers is… well, Mister Rogers
what if they could join forces

3squirrels:

death-limes:

fatass-mcnotits:

theidealisticcynic:

nudityandnerdery:

It’s unfortunate how many people didn’t take this message away from the debate.

Bill Nye was just SO ENTHUSIASTIC about the topic. You could tell.

For God’s sake, the man was trying to teach people about photosynthesis when asked what his favourite colour was. That’s a man that ADORES science and absolutely loves teaching people.

Suddenly, I was 12 and watching a Bill Nye The Science Guy episode at my grandma’s school while she was decorating the gym.

Bill Nye is like the Mister Roger’s of science

he legitimately cares about what he is talking about and enthusiastically encourages people to take something positive away from it

Bill Nye is the Mister Rogers of science

Bob Ross is the Mister Rogers of art

and Mister Rogers is… well, Mister Rogers

what if they could join forces

image