SHREK 2001 | Directors: Andrew Adamson, Vicky Jenson
YOU ARE THE REASON

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SHREK 2001 | Directors: Andrew Adamson, Vicky Jenson
Two-Minute Personality Test By Jonathan Safran Foer
What’s the kindest thing you almost did? Is your fear of insomnia stronger than your fear of what awoke you? Are bonsai cruel? Do you love what you love, or just the feeling? Your earliest memories: do you look though your young eyes, or look at your young self? Which feels worse: to know that there are people who do more with less talent, or that there are people with more talent? Do you walk on moving walkways? Should it make any difference that you knew it was wrong as you were doing it? Would you trade actual intelligence for the perception of being smarter? Why does it bother you when someone at the next table is having a conversation on a cell phone? How many years of your life would you trade for the greatest month of your life? What would you tell your father, if it were possible? Which is changing faster, your body, or your mind? Is it cruel to tell an old person his prognosis? Are you in any way angry at your phone? When you pass a storefront, do you look at what’s inside, look at your reflection, or neither? Is there anything you would die for if no one could ever know you died for it? If you could be assured that money wouldn’t make you any small bit happier, would you still want more money? What has been irrevocably spoiled for you? If your deepest secret became public, would you be forgiven? Is your best friend your kindest friend? Is it any way cruel to give a dog a name? Is there anything you feel a need to confess? You know it’s a “murder of crows” and a “wake of buzzards” but it’s a what of ravens, again? What is it about death that you’re afraid of? How does it make you feel to know that it’s an “unkindness of ravens”?
To my favorite person in the world, I know things are over and I know that means that we won’t get to create any new memories together. I know I lacked a lot of things, and I’m sorry for hurting you. Every day I talk to you, sometimes in whispers, sometimes in sobs, but every day I do. I know a lot of things now, one of which is that I should have given you space and me not giving you this created the biggest space possible. I know how incredibly much I miss you and also that that alone is not a great enough incentive to get us to talk again anymore. I know what we had was special and irreplaceable and nothing makes up for the fact that we don’t get to sit in silence together anymore. I know I’m sad, I can feel it every day when I open my eyes and every day when I lay my head down again on the pillow. It’s becoming a part of me, a you shaped hole in my heart. I know what would feel good and what is the right thing to do, and it raffles me that this time they are two completely different things. I know I had you. I know I lost you. I know it’s already been a while. The one thing I don’t know is whether this will end up being just a break or a good luck in another lifetime kind of thing. And it scares me how I don’t even know which one would be the better option. I don’t know why I’m writing this. but I guess when the day comes that I figure out why it is that I still talk to you in my head every day, the rest will figure itself out. With all my love, always
“Marriage is a wrestling match where you hold on tight while your mate changes into a hundred different things. The trick is that you’re changing into a hundred other things, but you can’t let go. You can only try to match up and never turn into a wolf while he’s a rabbit, or a mouse while he’s still busy being an owl, a brawny black bull while he’s a little blue crab scuttling for shelter. It’s harder than it sounds.”
— The Girl Who Soared Over Fairyland and Cut the Moon in Two, Catherynne M. Valente (via check-your-pockets-chimney-child)
“On the darkest days you have to search for a spot of brightness, on the coldest days you have to seek out a spot of warmth; on the bleakest days you have to keep your eyes onward and upward and on the saddest days you have to leave them open to let them cry. To then let them dry. To give them a chance to wash out the pain in order to see fresh and clear once again.”
— Tahereh Mafi, Unravel Me (via quotethat)
Soldier Boy | Mason Jennings
There will come a day.
There will come a day where you think, I wonder what he is doing I wonder how he is doing. Did he achieve everything he ever dreamed of…. Is he alive? Don’t question don’t come knocking. Time doesn’t heal all wounds but it will seal the ones it can’t heal shut. When something so terrifying and tragic happens and you can’t fix it, burry it, lock it down so that it can never escape the tomb it was put in. All that stuff that’s burning deep down inside of me. That stuff I can’t even look at because it scares me too much. That is the stuff that makes me who I am. That stuff that lives inside me isn’t for anyone else to see it’s for me to find. It comes so slow and painfully, it comes from heartache and struggle from being beat down so many times I lost count. Failure and success they come from that very same place in failure we turn to dust and in success is just a person who simple believes and refused to be beaten in to submission. It’s a core of courage and reckless abandonment. It’s the will to stand up and say this is wrong in a room from of quite souls. Life has a funny way of being relentless, and I have a funny way of pushing back. Sooner or later one of us will break. Until then. Be your own hero.
This helpful guide about what 200 calories looks like reminds us just how much healthy food we’re giving up each time we have a treat.
yeah, asshole. how dare you eat an order of french fries when you could have literally shoved 22 banana peppers in your fucking face-hole. what a piece of shit you are.
9 things to seriously make you re-consider the entire existence of mankind
Source: buzzfeed.com
Why I love astronomy
Mind blowing.
““When I was about 20 years old, I met an old pastor’s wife who told me that when she was young and had her first child, she didn’t believe in striking children, although spanking kids with a switch pulled from a tree was standard punishment at the time. But one day, when her son was four or five, he did something that she felt warranted a spanking–the first in his life. She told him that he would have to go outside himself and find a switch for her to hit him with. The boy was gone a long time. And when he came back in, he was crying. He said to her, “Mama, I couldn’t find a switch, but here’s a rock that you can throw at me.” All of a sudden the mother understood how the situation felt from the child’s point of view: that if my mother wants to hurt me, then it makes no difference what she does it with; she might as well do it with a stone. And the mother took the boy into her lap and they both cried. Then she laid the rock on a shelf in the kitchen to remind herself forever: never violence. And that is something I think everyone should keep in mind. Because if violence begins in the nursery one can raise children into violence.””
— Astrid Lindgren, author of Pippi Longstocking, 1978 Peace Prize Acceptance Speech (via violentlymelodic)
So That Others May Live
United States Coast Guard rescue swimmers from Coast Guard Air Station Atlantic City train off the coast of Atlantic City, NJ, Sept. 18, 2006.
Source.
“it’s okay if I’m not the girl of your dreams or the one you dance with at prom. I just want to be the girl you think about 20 years from now, while you’re staring at your morning coffee, wishing that you hadn’t poured so much milk in because now it’s too creamy to resemble my dark brown eyes.” Journal entry 11/16/14
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.
I fucking cried
Men know what they want. Men make concrete plans. Men own alarm clocks. Men sleep on a mattress that isn’t on the floor. Men tip generously. Men buy new shampoo instead of adding water to a nearly empty bottle of shampoo. Men go to the dentist. Men make reservations. Men go in for a kiss without giving you some long preamble about how they’re thinking of kissing you. Men wear clothes that have never been worn by anyone else before. Men know what they want and they don’t let you in on their inner dialogue, and that is scary. Because what I was used to was boys.
Mindy Kaling, Is Everyone hanging Out Without Me? (via sleepless-sundays)
Most things are forgotten over time. Even the war itself, the life-and-death struggle people went through is now like something from the distant past. We’re so caught up in our everyday lives that events of the past are no longer in orbit around our minds. There are just too many things we have to think about everyday, too many new things we have to learn. But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.
Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore (via quotethat)