- Character: Do not do this thing.
- Main Character: Okay. Excuse me while i do the thing.
BORED
Nadia, 18, New Zealand.
my favourite picture on tumblr ever
I AM LAUGHING SO HARD BECAUSE I THOUGHT OF 22 AND I SAID “TOOTY TWO” OUT LOUD AT 4AM OH GOD
THREETY THREE THOUG H
FORTY FOUR TH-
wait
i dont get how some people are so obsessed with finding love like chill out and watch yugioh or something
- me: wow i have so much work to do
- me: --goes on tumblr--
- me: --watches a movie--
- me: --writes a novel--
- me: --teaches myself sitar--
- me: --climbs a mountain--
- me: --backpacks through europe--
- me: why am i not getting anything done
how many posts can i reblog in five minutes before disappearing for three hours
That was the most informative thing I have ever been told by a duck
And I have been told a lot of things by ducks.
This essay is kind of the second part of an essay on taste that can be read here:
YES
also, the message made me think of this -
Rebloggin’ because this is good stuff.
reblogging this again because it really changed how I feel about my own art and how I view the art world
I have bullshitted my way through almost two decades of life
THIS IS A SOPHISTICATED SHOW
NO I LOVE THIS
TIME TO EDUCATE PEOPLE ON CINEMAGRAPHS FOR A SECOND TIME
cinemagraphs are NOT gifs. unlike gifs, cinemagraphs are technically photos that only have one thing being in constant motion while everything else stays the same. only the moving bit is on loop.
well gee: gatzzby: You’re not a REAL Gatsby fan unless you’ve read the book....
You’re not a REAL Gatsby fan unless you’ve read the book. Unless you’ve read every Fitzgerald book. Unless you’ve read their early drafts, mailed to you by Fitzgerald himself. Unless you first read Gatsby when Scott handed it to you in a Parisian bar in 1925, apologising for the cover when he saw you disapproved. Unless you embarked on an intense friendship with him that culminated in rumours that you two were having a clandestine homosexual affair. Unless you once took him to the Louvre so you could prove to him that his penis wasn’t any smaller than those on the statues there. Unless Scott turned up, drunk and uninvited, at your house so many times that you had to move more than once. Unless you continued to exchange increasingly infrequent and terse letters with him for the rest of his life, then missed his funeral because you were in Cuba. Unless you called his literary talent “as natural as the pattern that was made by the dust on a butterfly’s wings” and won a Nobel prize and wrote For Whom The Bell Tolls. That’s right, you poser, if you’re not Ernest Hemingway you can fuck straight off right now. We’re on to you.
“I am jealous of those who think more deeply, who write better, who draw better, who look better, who live better, who love better than I.”
Sylvia Plath (via crimical)
Words I think we need
Schrodinger’s Douchebag: One who makes douchebag statements, particularly sexist, racist or otherwise bigoted ones, then decides whether they were “just joking” or dead serious based on whether other people in the group approve or not.
MOVING THIS INTO CIRCULATION IMMEDIATELY.
