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Insomniatic Thoughts;






redgrieve:

fluttertree42:

why do people have quiet respectful funerals when i die i want my ashes mixed with glitter and packed tightly into a coffin and then they blow up the coffin with explosives so glitter rains down on the guests while blasting “thanks for the memories” by fall out boy

jesus god almighty

(via cakepapi)






commandereyebrows:

chachipistachis:

theamericankid:

Tumblr needs more of this….whatever this is.

Is this the same artist who made the original for this

image

how women actually are

(via friendlyneighbourhoodfeministt)


(Source: asthmas, via discoveryourheart)



weeaboobs:

×

weeaboobs:

×

(Source: calcifer, via fer-aligtr)



nutmegandpepper:

aforevercryingbecausemerlin:

azirae:

fruitfever:

azirae:

ANIMATION TEST. Six seconds of octopus (photoshop)

i wonder how long that took to make?

About 3 hours

it’s so pRETTY

nutmegandpepper:

aforevercryingbecausemerlin:

azirae:

fruitfever:

azirae:

ANIMATION TEST. Six seconds of octopus (photoshop)

i wonder how long that took to make?

About 3 hours

it’s so pRETTY

(via lostgirlwonder)



(via sharkpocalypse)



winterwolff:

viennesewaltz:

crazyrestlessdumblove:


Each ball weighs differently, causing each one to bounce to a specific height, and when precisely placed in the dust pans and thrown down… 2013

EVERY TIME this comes up on my dash i just sit here and stare at it FOREVERRRRRrr.



whoaaaaaaaaaaaa

winterwolff:

viennesewaltz:

crazyrestlessdumblove:

Each ball weighs differently, causing each one to bounce to a specific height, and when precisely placed in the dust pans and thrown down… 2013

EVERY TIME this comes up on my dash i just sit here and stare at it FOREVERRRRRrr.

whoaaaaaaaaaaaa

(via missythemermaid)



(via nicolerosabel)




sex-psychedelics:

The accuracy.

(Source: aasrial, via dry-county-deactivated20131203)


(Source: danandryan, via wecanlaughourlivesaway)



lumos5000:

askatinybot:

discovery:

Because… science.

Can we all just stop for a moment to appreciate the pure scientific power in this photo.

the power of three

lumos5000:

askatinybot:

discovery:

Because… science.

Can we all just stop for a moment to appreciate the pure scientific power in this photo.

the power of three

(via digitalnarcotic)



katelinnboo:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.
This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.
But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.
Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.
That’s what love is. Attention to detail.
And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.
But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time. She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.
But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:
One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.
And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

i love this so much

katelinnboo:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.

This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.

But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.

Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.

That’s what love is. Attention to detail.

And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.

But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.
She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.
She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time.
She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.

But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:

One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.

And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

i love this so much

(via fyeahalbanderas)


drdavidbrinner:

wean—dinchester:

drdavidbrinner:

anus:

the scary thing about dating is that you are either going to marry that person or break up

or die

woah there, friend

do you ever say a thing on Tumblr not realizing that your girlfriend is following you on Tumblr and you just reminded her that we’re either going to break up, get married, or die

(Source: anus, via thefaultinthepipes)





letscheerstobitches:

This gif is very important

letscheerstobitches:

This gif is very important

(Source: mrserialx, via my-infinite-summer)



(Source: vintagegal, via sharpedlamb)