mint

sabrina: short and usually fine with it. i like sugar and photography :)

[slarkin-blog]

Pusheen wishes you safe and happy interneting <3

[jodeus]

[slarkin-blog]

[timorleste-deactivated20131111]

You know what's kind of beautiful?

In French, you don’t really say “I miss you.” You say “tu me manques,” which is closer to “you are missing from me.”

I love that. “You are missing from me.” You are a part of me, you are essential to my being. You are like a limb, or an organ, or blood. I cannot function without you.

[pllains-deactivated20170307]

in america we don’t say i love you 4ever we say i love you 5ever (dat means more then 4evr).

[meowpurrnom]

dying

[langste-deactivated20120811]

[blua]

Oil Painting series Windows by Jim Darling

[yvonensadultsleepover-deactivat]

I wanna see a nighttime window. My life.

[lucifelle-deactivated20120919]

An intimate relationship does not banish loneliness. Only when we are comfortable with who we are can we truly function independently in a healthy way, can we truly function within a relationship. Two halves do not make a whole when it comes to a healthy relationship: it takes two wholes.

Patricia Fry (via ferfluffle)

[megan-mullally]

Nick Offerman, Megan Mullally and Alison Brie smoking weed in bed [x]

[yvonensadultsleepover-deactivat]

I think this is the first time I have ever reblogged pictures of anyone smoking weed on my Tumblr. Because for srs, I am not about to be That Girl on 4/20 who uploaded a photo of her keef stash, manipulated into the numbers “420”, onto Facebook. FACEBOOK. Seriously? Look, you can be down with drugs, but that is just silly and unnecessary. Should I be putting up albums called “LOL LOOK AT ALL MY DRUGZ” and Instagramming hot pix of me n’ my gurlies railing lines and shooting up? Have some common sense, d00dz.

But seriously guys, mini-rant asides, THIS THIS THIS. I just want to be best friends with all three of these people.

[antid-ote]

[arpeggia]

[slarkin-blog]

Where Science, Art and Photography Intersect

Photography by Caleb Charland 

Just how does Charland describe his own work? He says, “It’s like 5th grade science mixed with sculpture. It’s about being curious and playful. There is still a lot to wonder about.”

Click each image for description.

[urqv-blog]

[absentpresence]

[yvonensadultsleepover-deactivat]

“He does watercolors…mostly landscapes, and some nudes.”

[boyfroend]

[charliezard]

| crisstastic | potatobeenz |

You get home from a long day at work and turn on the TV. It’s been a long week, so you think to yourself- maybe i’ll take the family to a movie on Saturday. Maybe we’ll even go on a vacation soon! We could visit museums and go to plays and see all sorts of fun attractions.  When you turned the TV on, nothing happened. There are no actors to entertain you.  When you went to the movie theater, nothing was showing. There were no advertisements to tell you that anything was showing, so you went to the theater to find out. Nothing playing. There is no one to film and create movies for you. Well at least your vacation will be fun, right? Not like there will be any plays to see and there won’t be anything in the art museums.  Well at least you have the shack you are living in that you made out of cardboard and sheets. Not like you could find an architect to build you a house with all the money you’re making as an engineer. 

I will kill who ever came up with that list

[papauera-deactivated20140131]

[slarkin-blog]

Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read to the end just to find out who killed the cook. Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark, in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication. Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot, the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones that crimped your toes, don’t regret those. Not the nights you called god names and cursed your mother, sunk like a dog in the living room couch, chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness. You were meant to inhale those smoky nights over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches. You’ve walked those streets a thousand times and still you end up here. Regret none of it, not one of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing, when the lights from the carnival rides were the only stars you believed in, loving them for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved. You’ve traveled this far on the back of every mistake, ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied of expectation. Relax. Don’t bother remembering any of it. Let’s stop here, under the lit sign on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.

[jennyyuu]

[champagnegodzilla]

:(

[kidkongstreet]

[lovehongkong-blog]

[baruhara]

[yvonensadultsleepover-deactivat]

Maaaan I always burn myself because I CAN’T WAIT FOR NOMS