James Frey, A Million Little Pieces

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James Frey, A Million Little Pieces
by Dan-e-elle
Due to it’s reddish color a totally eclipsed moon is sometimes referred to as a blood moon. It appears red because the Earth’s atmosphere refracts sunlight and indirectly lights up the Moon’s surface.
by J_Lynn
continued...
Guardians of the Galaxy: 3.5/5 The Loved Ones: 3/5 The Hobbit: BofA: 3.5/5 Tucker & Dale vs. Evil: 3/5 Gone Girl: 3/5 The Taking of Deborah Logan: 2.5/5 Age of Ultron: 2.5/5 Confessions: 3/5 Snowpiercer: 4/5
(Good) Movies watched in late 2014 & the first half of 2015
Edge of Tomorrow: 3/5 It Follows: 3.5/5 The Babadook: 3/5 Trick r’ Treat: 4/5 Miss Granny: 3/5 Jurassic World: 3.5/5
smells like teen spirit (cover) // think up anger ft malia j
Autumn finally arrived. And when it did, I came to a decision. Something had to give: I couldn’t keep on living like this.
Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun (via quotes-shape-us)
Please. Don’t tell Mido. What has she done wrong? You know it was all my fault.
At 19, I read a sentence that re-terraformed my head: “The level of matter in the universe has been constant since the Big Bang.” In all the aeons we have lost nothing, we have gained nothing - not a speck, not a grain, not a breath. The universe is simply a sealed, twisting kaleidoscope that has reordered itself a trillion trillion trillion times over. Each baby, then, is a unique collision - a cocktail, a remix - of all that has come before: made from molecules of Napoleon and stardust and comets and whale tooth; colloidal mercury and Cleopatra’s breath: and with the same darkness that is between the stars between, and inside, our own atoms. When you know this, you suddenly see the crowded top deck of the bus, in the rain, as a miracle: this collection of people is by way of a starburst constellation. Families are bright, irregular-shaped nebulae. Finding a person you love is like galaxies colliding. We are all peculiar, unrepeatable, perambulating micro-universes - we have never been before and we will never be again. Oh God, the sheer exuberant, unlikely face of our existences. The honour of being alive. They will never be able to make you again. Don’t you dare waste a second of it thinking something better will happen when it ends. Don’t you dare.
Caitlin Moran (via scatteredandshining)
Swan lake by: Henrik Hansen
Chad Harbach, The Art of Fielding