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Jules of Nature

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Not today Justin
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Today's Document

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@triceratopssoup
Haven’t used this website in so long
How have some of you been
Ballerina (second half of 1880s). Vicente Palmaroli (Spanish, 1835-1896). Oil on canvas. The State Hermitage Museum, St Petersburg.
In the 1880s, Palmaroli produced works depicting dancers at the Tor di Nona theatre. Tor di Nona is an area in the heart of the historic city of Rome where once a a medieval tower stood. In 1667 the tower was restored and reconstructed as a theatre; it was swept away by the Tiber at the end of the 19th century.
The Gate of Sahaqiel
I watched as the clouds poured forth from the mouth of the opening. The sky on the other side leaked through to flow down into the valley below, filling nothing of the infinite void that waited below it. Compared to this great emptiness, the stream might as well have been fed through the eye of a needle, for it accomplished the same. Even so, it regarded the world openly and boldly.
Beyond its arches, the great Seraphim Sahaqiel reclined.
—-
Created for www.angelarium.net
November, Alphonse Mucha.
Fun facts about your sign here
genuinely me
I want him
When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boys call asking your cup size, say A, hang up. When he says you gave him blue balls, say you’re welcome. When a girl with thick black curls who smells like bubble gum stops you in a stairwell to ask if you’re a boy, explain that you keep your hair short so she won’t have anything to grab when you head-butt her. Then head-butt her. When a guidance counselor teases you for handed-down jeans, do not turn red. When you have sex for the second time and there is no condom, do not convince yourself that screwing between layers of underwear will soak up the semen. When your geometry teacher posts a banner reading: “Learn math or go home and learn how to be a Momma,” do not take your first feminist stand by leaving the classroom. When the boy you have a crush on is sent to detention, go home. When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boy with the blue mohawk swallows your heart and opens his wrists, hide the knives, bleach the bathtub, pour out the vodka. Every time. When the skinhead girls jump you in a bathroom stall, swing, curse, kick, do not turn red. When a boy you think you love delivers the first black eye, use a screw driver, a beer bottle, your two good hands. When your father locks the door, break the window. When a college professor writes you poetry and whispers about your tight little ass, do not take it as a compliment, do not wait, call the Dean, call his wife. When a boy with good manners and a thirst for Budweiser proposes, say no. When your mother hits you, do not strike back. When the boys tell you how good you smell, do not doubt them, do not turn red. When your brother tells you he is gay, pretend you already know. When the girl on the subway curses you because your tee shirt reads: “I fucked your boyfriend,” assure her that it is not true. When your dog pees the rug, kiss her, apologize for being late. When he refuses to stay the night because you live in Jersey City, do not move. When he refuses to stay the night because you live in Harlem, do not move. When he refuses to stay the night because your air conditioner is broken, leave him. When he refuses to keep a toothbrush at your apartment, leave him. When you find the toothbrush you keep at his apartment hidden in the closet, leave him. Do not regret this. Do not turn red. When your mother hits you, do not strike back.
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Unsolicited Advice to Adolescent Girls with Crooked Teeth and Pink Hair
by Jeanann Verlee
Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the elements - the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution and for life - weren’t created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way for them to get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here today.
Lawrence Krauss (via wordshits)
Night at the Lake by Martin Via Flickr:
Views From The Amphitheater by Sean König Website
having “” a glass”” of red wine
today is one of those days where i ask myself why havent i dropped out of school yet/why am i alive/why am i a pathetic wimp
idk
Reblog if you’re lost in life rn but still trying make shit happen