“There are four questions of value in life… What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”
Johnny Depp
Happy birthday, dreamboat.
Mike Driver

Andulka
Today's Document
No title available

izzy's playlists!
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
todays bird
No title available
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
NASA
Xuebing Du
Not today Justin
Game of Thrones Daily
Jules of Nature

roma★
trying on a metaphor
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
d e v o n
One Nice Bug Per Day
tumblr dot com
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia

seen from Singapore
seen from United States

seen from Türkiye

seen from Chile
seen from Denmark
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from Australia

seen from Italy

seen from Türkiye
seen from France
seen from Algeria
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States
@perhapsomeothereon
“There are four questions of value in life… What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same. Only love.”
Johnny Depp
Happy birthday, dreamboat.
Letters From Kids To God
This is my son. He speaks Greek.
In 1957, at 18 years of age, future billionaire and founder of CNN, Ted Turner, informed his father that he would be majoring in Classics after being inspired by a professor at Brown University. His father was furious to say the least, and responded to his son's announcement with the following despairing letter — a letter which Ted later sent to the college paper in retaliation, who then reprinted it in full. (Source: Call Me Ted; Image: Ted Turner, via.)
My dear son, I am appalled, even horrified, that you have adopted Classics as a major. As a matter of fact, I almost puked on the way home today. I suppose that I am old-fashioned enough to believe that the purpose of an education is to enable one to develop a community of interest with his fellow men, to learn to know them, and to learn how to get along with them. In order to do this, of course, he must learn what motivates them, and how to impel them to be pleased with his objectives and desires. I am a practical man, and for the life of me I cannot possibly understand why you should wish to speak Greek. With whom will you communicate in Greek? I have read, in recent years, the deliberations of Plato and Aristotle, and was interested to learn that the old bastards had minds which worked very similarly to the way our minds work today. I was amazed that they had so much time for deliberating and thinking, and was interested in the kind of civilization that would permit such useless deliberation. Then I got to thinking that it wasn't so amazing—after all they thought like we did because my Hereford cows today are very similar to those ten or twenty generations ago. I am amazed that you would adopt Plato and Aristotle as a vocation for several months when it might make pleasant and enjoyable reading to you in your leisure time as relaxation at a later date. For the life of me I cannot understand why you should be vitally interested in informing yourself about the influences of the Classics on English literature. It is not necessary for you to know how to make a gun in order to know how to use it. It would seem to me that it would be enough to learn English literature without going into what influence this or that ancient mythology might have upon it. As for Greek literature, the history of the Roman and Greek churches, and the art of those eras, it would seem to me that you would be much better off by learning something about contemporary literature and writings and things that might have some meaning to you with the people with whom you are to associate. These subjects might give you a community of interest with an isolated few impractical dreamers, and a select group of college professors. God forbid! It would seem to me that what you wish to do is to establish a community of interest with as many people as you possibly can. With people who are moving, who are doing things, and who have an interesting, not a decadent, outlook. I suppose everybody has to be a snob of some sort, and I suppose you will feel that you are distinguishing yourself from the herd by becoming a Classical snob. I can see you drifting into a bar, belting down a few, turning around to the guy on the stool next to you—a contemporary billboard baron form Podunk, Iowa—and saying, "Well, what do you think about old Leonidas?" Your friend, the billboard baron, will turn to you and say, "Leonidas who?" You will turn to him and say, "Why Leonidas, the prominent Greek of the Twelfth Century." He will, in turn, say to you, "Well, who in the hell was he?" You will say, "Oh, you don't know about Leonidas?" and dismiss him, and not discuss anything else with him the rest of the evening. He will feel that he is a clodhopper from Podunk, Iowa. I suppose this will make you both happy, and as a result of it, you will wind up buying his billboard plant. There is no question but this type of useless information will distinguish you, set you apart from the doers of the world. If I leave you enough money, you can retire to an ivory tower, and contemplate for the rest of your days the influence that the hieroglyphics of prehistoric man had upon the writings of William Faulkner. Incidentally, he was a contemporary of mine in Mississippi. We speak the same language—whores, sluts, strong words, and strong deeds. It isn't really important what I think. It's important what you wish to do with your life. I just wish I could feel that the influence of those oddball professors and the ivory towers were developing you into the kind of a man we can both be proud of. I am quite sure that we both will be pleased and delighted when I introduce you to some friend of mine and say, "This is my son. He speaks Greek." I had dinner during the Christmas holidays with an efficiency expert, an economic adviser to the nation of India, on the Board of Directors of Regents at Harvard University, who owns some 80,000 acres of valuable timber land down here, among his other assets. His son and his family were visiting him. He introduced me to his son, and then apologetically said, "He is a theoretical mathematician. I don't even know what he is talking about. He lives in a different world." After a little while I got to talking to his son, and the only thing he would talk to me about was about his work. I didn't know what he was talking about either so I left early. If you are going to stay on at Brown, and be a professor of Classics, the courses you have adopted will suit you for a lifetime association with Gale Noyes. Perhaps he will even teach you to make jelly. In my opinion, it won't do much to help you learn to get along with people in this world. I think you are rapidly becoming a jackass, and the sooner you get out of that filthy atmosphere, the better it will suit me. Oh, I know everybody says that a college education is a must. Well, I console myslef by saying that everybody said the world was square, except Columbus. You go ahead and go with the world, and I'll go it alone. I hope I am right. You are in the hands of the Philistines, and dammit, I sent you there. I am sorry. Devotedly, Dad
The rest is history.
Kung Fu Barber
20 Feelings And Situations That Everybody Hates
1) Seeing a bug, then losing track of it and becoming a paranoid prisoner in your own home.
2) Hearing loud slams and bumps while you’re in the shower and imagining it being some type of killer who you’ll have to fight off, soaking wet and butt naked.
3) Thinking that you’ve found a parking space, but as you turn in you discover that a motorcycle, a Volkswagen Bug, or some other vehicle the size of a Hot Wheels car has already occupied the spot.
4) When a sneeze refuses to come out, causing you to look like a fool with a scrunched up face.
5) Waiting to hear from somebody specific and being bombarded by texts & calls from everyone who isn’t that person.
6) When the week feels like: Moooooooooooooonday, Tuuuuuuuuuuueeeesday, Weeeeeeeeeeeednesday, Thuuuuuuuuuursday, FriSatSun.
7) You scan your surroundings. Nobody is near you. You fart. Within three seconds, somebody comes right into the stinky perimeter that you’ve created.
8) Checking your bank account after a night of intoxicated drink purchases.
9) When you microwave frozen food and it’s scorching hot everywhere but the ice cold middle.
10) When Michael Bay acquires the rights to make a film about a franchise that you previously enjoyed.
11) When somebody makes up lies about you, and defending yourself makes you seem guilty – but not defending yourself seems suspicious as well.
12) Getting paid but knowing in advance that your check will be consumed by bills.
13) Entering a parked car on a scorching hot summer day.
14) When gas prices are higher than your GPA.
15) When someone 20+ feet away holds the door open for you, forcing you to jog toward them.
16) The humbling moment when you realize you’re wrong during an argument.
17) Waking up and only having a few minutes left until the alarm will sound.
18) When you wear a good outfit but don’t run into anybody noteworthy all day.
19) When you have to be a douche and shuffle through the bag to confirm that Taco Bell (or any other fast food joint) got your order correct.
20) The feeling of heartburn, self-hate and bubble guts that comes about 5-10 minutes after consuming Taco Bell (or any other fast food joint).
The Pink Sea
Situated north of the Cap Vert Peninsula in Senegal, northeast of Dakar, Lake Retba, or as the French refer to it Lac Rose, is pinker than any milkshake you’ve ever come face to straw with. And once you see it, you too will agree that a sippy straw may be in order over a boat. Experts say the lake gives off its pink hue due to cyanobacteria, a harmless halophilic bacteria found in the water. If the color weren’t enough to make you smile, it should be known that Lake Retba has a high salt content, much like that of the Dead Sea, allowing people to float effortlessly in the massive pink water. In fact, Lake Retba has an almost one and a half times higher salt content than the Dead Sea.
OK GO!
Crazy little things called Emotions
An Open Letter To Photogenic People
Hey, guys,
Hold on, hold on, put the iPhones down for a second… ironically, you’re the only people who don’t even really need Instagram, and yet I’m pretty sure you’re the ones keeping it afloat — well, you and the people who won’t stop taking pictures of their food, but I digress.
Anyway, I just need your attention for a few minutes, because I feel like those of us who have never met a candid photo of them that didn’t look like a rabies-riddled warthog freshly escaped from its cage have had enough. I mean, don’t get me wrong, everyone likes looking at pretty — and the overwhelming flood of “likes” or “reblogs” or “retweets” on all of the photos you post must reassure you that such is the case. The comments along the lines of “OH MY GOD Y ARE U SO PRETTY IT ISN’T FAIR UGHHHH,” as lighthearted as they may seem, are actually rather serious. We constantly see your photos and ask ourselves, “Why does God dole out physical beauty so sparingly that some of us get far more than any one human needs, and some of us look like a limp bowl of mashed vegetables in photos?”
I mean, clearly you know that you look beautiful in pictures — so post away! Just don’t add insult to injury. If you’re the girl whose Tumblr is almost entirely comprised of heavily filtered photos of you looking beautiful and sad in an array of clothes that I probably can’t afford/would look chunky in, at least don’t tag them with such falsely self-deprecating captions as “Ugly girl drinking tea,” or, “Why am I even doing this?” BITCH QUIET. You know that you look gorgeous, because if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be posting photos like this — you would be spending your internet time like the rest of us plebeians, scouring all social media for horrible candids someone else cruelly posted of you and promptly detagging. You would be carefully selecting profile pictures that put you at least two points higher on the hotness scale than you actually are. Hell, you might even be like me, and have a cartoon as your Twitter photo #noshame.
And if you’re the aspiring male model whose Facebook pictures are just flawless demonstrations of masculine beauty and the perfect amount of chest hair, there is no need to put them up with the question, “What do we think of this one?” You know what we think. We think that you look like a god damned ray of sunshine and we love looking at you while crying softly to ourselves and plowing through a box of Oreos like a wood chipper. Okay? Are you happy now? You’re beautiful, congratulations.
Also, by the by, why are you guys constantly going on random photo shoots, even when you have no interest in actual modeling? Are there just people who are so unbelievably beautiful that photographers stop them in the street and are like “Let’s set up a time for us to go into the woods and you to look ethereal and smolder for a while, just for fun”? Does that happen? Please tell me that doesn’t happen.
I’m just saying that it’s so hard to navigate social media when you’re living in constant fear that at any moment, someone’s going to put up a mid-laugh party photo and you will look like you have 17 chins, whereas your photogenic friend just looks like they were caught off-guard during a particularly peppy Ralph Lauren photoshoot. “Oh,” they seem to be saying, “There’s a camera there? Hello!” Just appreciate that you guys won the genetic lottery, and beyond that, have the kind of beauty that translates directly into celluloid. The rest of us would kill for that. So just own it, be proud, and there’s no need to rub it in our faces with an “Oh, gosh, what a terrible photo! Tee hee!” — you don’t have to pretend like you’re not as fabulous as you are, it only makes the actual photos all the more brutal.
Oh, and, if you dare make your profile picture a shot of the two of us where you look like Cinderella and I look like your evil, drunk stepsister — I will f-cking kill you.
Love,
Normal People
By CHELSEA FAGAN
How about I dance the Black Swan for you?
Sunken Cemetery, Camiguin, Philippines
Shot by me
To die will be an awfully big adventure.
-J.M. BARRIE, Peter Pan
"There in the mist, enormous, majestic, silent and terrible, stood the Great Wall of China. Solitarily, with the indifference of nature herself, it crept up the mountain side and slipped down to the depth of the valley. "
- W. Somerset Maugham, writer
Fly away
Fly away to what you want to make
-Feist
The World's Best-Known Portrait
Sometimes, the last thing you want comes in first,
Sometimes, the first thing you want never comes,
And I know, the waiting is all you can do,
Sometimes...
-Aqualung
JUST google IT.