3 hours ago on October 1, 2014
tealrallythong:

okay one of the few things right about this film is billy - usually bc of billy’s actor, but like… look at this aesthetic tho this is top notch book!billy looks
thetalkingcrocus can you confirm

thin, wiry, looks VERY YOUNG/boyish, beautiful in a totally graceless, fawn-like way?
that’s billy alright

tealrallythong:

okay one of the few things right about this film is billy - usually bc of billy’s actor, but like… look at this aesthetic tho this is top notch book!billy looks

thetalkingcrocus can you confirm

thin, wiry, looks VERY YOUNG/boyish, beautiful in a totally graceless, fawn-like way?

that’s billy alright



3 hours ago on October 1, 2014

shinjiikari:

im so glad “stay hydrated” is a thing because on one hand its trendy + cool but also its very useful to remind people to drink their water. This is a practical meme



3 hours ago on October 1, 2014

In the spirit of Halloween, what type of monster could you see me as? 



4 hours ago on October 1, 2014
thelisteningcrow:

Placeholder (a poem for my god)

I didn’t used to know what it felt like to be a disciple but sometimes I see a flash of this drumlin-god and my heart screams “my love” and my head screams “my home” and my entire body is alertaliveawake with a soul-deep homesick yearning.
I collapse to my knees in the rough prairie grass, the wind like a lover’s breath at the nape of my neck the sweet sunlit smell of plant life filling my nose and I tilt my head back and clench my fists in vegetation. The sun kisses my eyelids and I know what it means to worship.
Capital S Sacrifices were never something I considered but my god asks them of me as I crest the steep ridge of outer hill I offer the air from my lungs and –gently- she takes it. It is worth it, because she repays me in a rolling breeze that lifts my spirit from my body. At the top, I see crows playing on the very same wind, drifting up and down like musicians practicing their scales and I can feel their joy.
It doesn’t feel as strange as you’d think, worshipping a place. With all the finesse of a city dweller who took first steps on concrete, carpet, hardwood- I can tell when things change. I can tell when the land beneath my feet is growing, is alive, is sacred. Despite her rooted nature, my god is never absent. She has taught me to pay attention, to listen and look closely for the signs of her presence.
I can feel them with eyes closed.
There is a little part of me made of stone and red-gold grasses and the hills and valleys and shadows of the place I love best.
I guess you could call this a dedication, confirmation. I will be baptized in prairie wind.
It’s taken me a long time to understand she doesn’t need a name. She has a given name, of course, but so do I and she has never, not once, used it.
She speaks in the feelings, the assurances, deep and warm like sap beneath the bark of a tree. I think this is because she is old enough not to need words but I know this language, her language, is holy.
I hear a chorus of cawing as the crows pass like shadows, like pieces of my deity, overhead. They are echoed by the flicker of a deer’s tail, the orchestra of grasshoppers and the entire world around me is alive, and I smile.
I glimpse her between buildings. I tell her I will be home soon. 

thelisteningcrow:

Placeholder (a poem for my god)

I didn’t used to know what it felt like to be a disciple but sometimes I see a flash of this drumlin-god and my heart screams “my love” and my head screams “my home” and my entire body is alertaliveawake with a soul-deep homesick yearning.

I collapse to my knees in the rough prairie grass, the wind like a lover’s breath at the nape of my neck the sweet sunlit smell of plant life filling my nose and I tilt my head back and clench my fists in vegetation. The sun kisses my eyelids and I know what it means to worship.

Capital S Sacrifices were never something I considered but my god asks them of me as I crest the steep ridge of outer hill I offer the air from my lungs and –gently- she takes it. It is worth it, because she repays me in a rolling breeze that lifts my spirit from my body. At the top, I see crows playing on the very same wind, drifting up and down like musicians practicing their scales and I can feel their joy.

It doesn’t feel as strange as you’d think, worshipping a place. With all the finesse of a city dweller who took first steps on concrete, carpet, hardwood- I can tell when things change. I can tell when the land beneath my feet is growing, is alive, is sacred. Despite her rooted nature, my god is never absent. She has taught me to pay attention, to listen and look closely for the signs of her presence.

I can feel them with eyes closed.

There is a little part of me made of stone and red-gold grasses and the hills and valleys and shadows of the place I love best.

I guess you could call this a dedication, confirmation. I will be baptized in prairie wind.

It’s taken me a long time to understand she doesn’t need a name. She has a given name, of course, but so do I and she has never, not once, used it.

She speaks in the feelings, the assurances, deep and warm like sap beneath the bark of a tree. I think this is because she is old enough not to need words but I know this language, her language, is holy.

I hear a chorus of cawing as the crows pass like shadows, like pieces of my deity, overhead. They are echoed by the flicker of a deer’s tail, the orchestra of grasshoppers and the entire world around me is alive, and I smile.

I glimpse her between buildings. I tell her I will be home soon. 



4 hours ago on October 1, 2014
kaible:

"He’s behind me making that fucking face again. I don’t even have to turn around to know it. God damn it. I hate that goddamned stupid face he makes. God fucking damnit."

kaible:

"He’s behind me making that fucking face again. I don’t even have to turn around to know it. God damn it. I hate that goddamned stupid face he makes. God fucking damnit."



6 hours ago on October 1, 2014


7 hours ago on October 1, 2014


8 hours ago on October 1, 2014


10 hours ago on October 1, 2014
mrshezza:

claraboobearbum:

mrshezza:

so this kid got bored in class and asked the teacher if he could climb on the top of the cupboard thing and teacher was like “as long as it doesnt break and you dont fall of ok”

Did no one notice swag plank?

dont you dare insult william he is a great young man

mrshezza:

claraboobearbum:

mrshezza:

so this kid got bored in class and asked the teacher if he could climb on the top of the cupboard thing and teacher was like “as long as it doesnt break and you dont fall of ok”

Did no one notice swag plank?

dont you dare insult william he is a great young man



11 hours ago on October 1, 2014


12 hours ago on October 1, 2014

iguanamouth:

she just stood there doing this little dance until we got up

By Lauren [tumblr]



13 hours ago on October 1, 2014

thors-oh-so-jovial:

thors-oh-so-jovial:

thors-oh-so-jovial:

There is a blind man here tuning my piano and he keeps making blind jokes

quote “you know when people ring me up to ask if I can fix their piano I like to tell them i’m so good I can do it without looking”

Sometimes people ask why i became a piano tuner and i tell them its because they wouldnt let me become a pilot



15 hours ago on October 1, 2014
awwww-cute:

These two

awwww-cute:

These two



16 hours ago on October 1, 2014

oh god i’m going to my old school to visit one of my teachers this is going to be so strange