Today is a good day to return to Tumblr.

brandondoesstuff:

A moment of silence for those who don’t listen to Coheed & Cambria

(via and-she-screamed-claudio)

child-of-the-fence:

"Baby, I’m bad company and you don’t have a mark… you’re the prettiest thing I have ever seen, come with me, I want to make you dirty" - Key Entity Extraction IV: Vic the Butcher

photo: http://thec-12.com/scr28.html

(via adrianamtz-r)

(via bacondolphin)

Title: Pop-punk bands saying 'town' 372,827 plays

dickfuentes:

Pop-punk bands saying ‘town’.

(via bacondolphin)

(via andreakwon)

wesfincher:

As human beings, we’re considered the apex predator but only because smaller animals can’t feed on us because of weapons and stuff, right? A lion does not feel guilty when it kills a gazelle, right? You do not feel guilty when you squash a fly… and I think that means something. I just think that really means something.

(via symphonicvonlenska)

"His name was King. He had a horse. Along the countryside. I saw him ride. He had a gun. I knew him well. And when he shot, Oh that man. He never missed…

(via symphonicvonlenska)

micromicrocosm:

Modern Madonnas

(via whatwhatwhatamidoing)

Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.”

Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)

(via meetmeinthemitten)

(via adrianamtz-r)

(via adrianamtz-r)

schwarbagetruck:

susitsu:

eximplode:

nevvymaster:

captainhanni:

if anyone has a tough year ahead of them or behind them

this japanese fisherman will get you back on your feet, i can guarantee

image

I WON’T GIVE UP, JAPANESE FISHERMAN!!!

THIS IS ACTUALLY SURPRISINGLY INSPIRATIONAL, EVERYONE NEEDS A JAPANESE FISHERMAN TO YELL AT THEM SOMETIMES OKAY

PLEASE CAN I JUST HAVE THIS MAN DO THIS FOR ME EVERYDAY????

SOMEDAY I WILL DO SOMETHING THIS INSPIRATIONAL TOO, BUT UNTIL THAT DAY THIS MAN WILL HAVE TO DO IT FOR ME

(via biobeetleholmcross)

vvidget:

The intense emotions you could never describe 

(via biobeetleholmcross)