errythang
Here there are some calamities without end—but sometimes I can clearly see us in the future, and it is good. We will live in his house and I will cook for him and when he leaves food out on the counter I will call him a zángano. I can see myself watching him shave every morning. And at other times I see us in that house and see how one bright day (or a day like this, so cold your mind shifts every time the wind does) he will wake up and decide it’s all wrong. He will wash his face and then turn to me. I’m sorry, he’ll say, I have to leave now.
from This Is How You Lose Her, Junot Díaz
85anti:

The Cabin in the Woods (2012)

85anti:

The Cabin in the Woods (2012)

I think the average guy thinks they’re pro-woman, just because they think they’re a nice guy and someone has told them that they’re awesome. But the truth is far from it. Unless you are actively, consciously working against the gravitational pull of the culture, you will predictably, thematically, create these sort of fucked-up representations.
Junot Diaz (via characterkin)
Nice Woman is Rejected Multiple Times. Does Not Gain Homicidal Urges.
potential Onion headline (via pansexualpagan)

orange-plum:

happycontender:

they saw the chance

You’re forgetting the best one

cirque-du-sirene:

Ruckus rockin out to a good jam

cirque-du-sirene:

Ruckus rockin out to a good jam

69-shades-of-lesbian:

psych0nek0:

Nibbling at the speed of nyoom.

lets-just-go-x
How u eat your nuggets
Mi madre siempre me advirtió que no me enamorara de un hombre que fuma porque me dejaría hecha cenizas.
Denise Márquez (via denisesoyletras)

lindsaychrist:

i wont let this video die

Van Gogh once wrote, “If you hear a voice within you say ‘you cannot paint,’ then by all means paint and that voice will be silenced.” You can replace the word paint with any dream we might pursue. There will always be conflicting voices within us—those that whisper about the great dreams waiting to be realized and those that scream that we lack the talent or capacity to achieve them. Part of that process is deciding which voices will inform us.
I want you and you are not here. I pause
in this garden, breathing the colour thought is
before language into still air. Even your name
is a pale ghost and, though I exhale it again
and again, it will not stay with me. Tonight
I make you up, imagine you, your movements clearer
than the words I have you say you said before.

Wherever you are now, inside my head you fix me
with a look, standing here whilst cool late light
dissolves into the earth. I have got your mouth wrong,
but still it smiles. I hold you closer, miles away,
inventing love, until the calls of nightjars
interrupt and turn what was to come, was certain,
into memory. The stars are filming us for no one.
Carol Ann Duffy, “Miles Away” (via petrichour)
ridiculoser:

ridiculoser:

lol I changed what gay autocorrects to in my friends phone so he’ll stop using it as a derogatory term.

so i texted him pretending i was coming out of the closet and this is fantastic

ridiculoser:

ridiculoser:

lol I changed what gay autocorrects to in my friends phone so he’ll stop using it as a derogatory term.

so i texted him pretending i was coming out of the closet and this is fantastic

image