Fuck yeah.
Is there such a thing as a fictional nonfiction story?
If so, I think that's what I'm in the midst of making...
We'll call it "my life according to my outlandish imagination..."
Reading is my favorite thing in the world.
So are movies.
Books are my heart and soul.
Dancing makes me happy.
I love music that makes me feel like I'm floating.
Original Nintendo will always be my favorite.
Road trips are the best.
Intelligence is the sexiest quality in a person.
I want to be a traveler.
A good book (hell even a not so good book) can always make my day better. • Ask me anything
• Submit dreaming in color.
If so, I think that's what I'm in the midst of making...
We'll call it "my life according to my outlandish imagination..."
Reading is my favorite thing in the world.
So are movies.
Books are my heart and soul.
Dancing makes me happy.
I love music that makes me feel like I'm floating.
Original Nintendo will always be my favorite.
Road trips are the best.
Intelligence is the sexiest quality in a person.
I want to be a traveler.
A good book (hell even a not so good book) can always make my day better. • Ask me anything
• Submit dreaming in color.
Chocolate batter batter blast, cherry coke, and show tunes… in your face Saturday doubles!!!! And eff you. That is all. (Taken with instagram)
exactly.
i am angry like yesteryear
like the way i used to be
before the willow branches
hid you and i away from the world
away from the pain of…life
beneath willows’ shroud
we were allowed to be on cloud…nine
and we were in love
but
then the fall came
and took our love away
took our cover and exposed us
to the world again
to the pain and the hurt
and we were ripped from willows’ comfort
from her shielding branches
and i am angry like yesteryear
again
two weeks.
It seems like such a short time frame in the scheme of things, yet so much can happen, and so much has.
I lost myself. I let someone take the fire and passion inside of me and now there’s nothing left of me. I walk through life on autopilot, dazed when I’m not just plain angry for no reason. I thought I was so much stronger.
I can’t say the words, I can’t begin to let go of it and find myself again.
Rape.
You took an innocent naive person and lured them into your web, tying her down and literally feeding off her soul. It’s not just sex, it’s every negative, terrifying emotion I never thought I’d have. When I can’t sleep at night, it’s you holding me down. When I can’t hug my beautiful baby girl it’s you pushing me away. When I can’t find solace in a crowded church it’s you pulling me inwards.
Every sunny day seems overcast, nothing excites me. There is no sunshine left in my soul. I am an empty shell of who I used to be.
“And Lot’s wife, of course, was told not to look back where all these people ans their homes had once been. But she did look back, and I love her for that, because it was so human.”
— Kurt Vonnegut, Slaughterhouse Five
I forgot how to be happy. I forgot how to enjoy life. I feel like I’m living in a daze… watching some else’s life.
I see it in my dreams. I feel it when I’m awake. The jumpiness. The fear. The anger. I’m so angry.
But only at myself for not being stronger, for letting my personal Voldemort into my deepest mind and controlling every step I take.
I’m numb to responsibilities, friendships, love… I can’t function. I can barely just be.
[Flash 10 is required to watch video]
killthebloodyredprinceofdeath:
If that stories true…..A little backstory to this clip before you watch it:
Will Smith’s father abandoned him and his mother when he was a child, and when Will was finally getting into show business and making a name for himself, he tried to sneak his way back into his life like nothing happened. Will co-wrote this episode, and James Avery (Uncle Phil) said “this scene was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to shoot in my life. Every emotion, every word.. that was Will”
Will was actually supposed to play it off and then walk away, and there was originally an alternate scene that was supposed to happen, but he actually completely cut out what was supposed to be said, and did all of his own dialogue. The hug at the end of this scene is completely genuine, and this was a stepping stone in Will’s career where he started to take on the “do what feels, sounds, and looks right” approach to his acting.
FOREVER REBLOG!
i just teared up watching this… favorite actor. ♥
FOREVER REBLOG.
I believe it’s true. Look at that raw emotion in Will. He isn’t acting; he’s venting his own real life frustrations and it shows.
T-T
Feeling his pain… to hell with all them. Forever alone but making it anyway.
(Source: tumblr.com, via babyface-ily)
President Obama, at the Women’s Leadership Forum yesterday, on the GOP’s assault on women’s health
(via literarynerd)
“Glimpses do ye seem to see of that mortally intolerable truth; that all deep, earnest thinking is but the intrepid effort of the soul to keep the open independence of her sea; while the wildest winds of heaven and earth conspire to cast her on the treacherous, slavish shore?”
—
Herman Melville in Moby-Dick, quoted by American Roulette. The natural state of the soul: an open independence, depth; the wild winds of heaven and earth alike want to wreck her on trivia, occupy her with tedium: “news — the froth & scum of the eternal sea,” and “all that is transitory [and is therefore] but a symbol.”
Leisure: the form of reposed reflection in which the soul can recover independence, “that stillness that is the necessary preparation for accepting reality.” Most of what I spend my “free time” —ostensibly but not leisure— doing: chilling out on the slavish shore, cluttering my mind, yoking it to technopoly’s values, the market’s values. The soul’s sea has its own trash gyre.
(via mills)
