Let me tell you the story of a poor boy @willssingalongblog - Tumblr Blog

can’t believe this loser is a big brother (she will outgrow him soon)

Moon

a man: men now have to think before they speak, they are afraid to be criticized or accused of something, can we believe that we have to live like this now?? uwu

all the women that had to grown up being super self-aware of what they wear, what they think, what they say, how they act, where they are, with whom, etc in every aspect of their life, all the time, in this sexist society (especially women of color, non-straight women and trans women): good. finally you all have to learn how to behave.

jeleefish

I haven’t posted my stuff on Tumblr in about 1000 years, but I’m going to try and get back into the swing of it! Challenged myself to draw character pairs I hadn’t tried before this week.

ilove2loveme

mindful-and-motivated-deactivat

“

We resist change. We fear the unknown. But everything is changing all the time—the waves, the clouds, and us. If we are quiet and still in the moment, we can witness change and accept it as inevitable. We can learn to surrender into it, become friends with it. That doesn’t mean that we don’t work to relieve suffering within that change— we might, for example, do everything we can to heal ourselves or others from cancer, but we try not to deny or become angry that the cancer is there. We can acknowledge it, look at the choices we have, and then act in a loving way.

—Ram Dass

Walking Each Other Home: Conversations on Love and Dying

squeakitties

self care is completely ignoring E3 until nintendo’s presentation

swmovies

insp.

What is a club in any case? Not the buildings or the directors or the people who are paid to represent it. It’s not the television contracts, get-out clauses, marketing departments or executive boxes. It’s the noise, the passion, the feeling of belonging, the pride in your city. It’s a small boy clambering up stadium steps for the very first time, gripping his father’s hand, gawping at that hallowed stretch of turf beneath him and, without being able to do a thing about it, falling in love.

Bobby Robson, My Kind of Toon

#football