sickpage:

tommsHung up, 2012

sickpage:

tomms
Hung up, 2012

rneerkat:

arteries will always hold a special place in my heart

brockdavis:

popcorn rain cloud #popcorn #rain #popcornraincloud

brockdavis:

popcorn rain cloud #popcorn #rain #popcornraincloud

ninewhitebanners:

A Mongolian first-grader with a Mickey Mouse backpack walks home from school, against the backdrop of the Altai mountains. Photo by Andrew Cullen.

ninewhitebanners:

A Mongolian first-grader with a Mickey Mouse backpack walks home from school, against the backdrop of the Altai mountains. Photo by Andrew Cullen.

svveden:

svveden:

what do you call a sphere full of idiots

earth

rollingorange:

catcrabs:

guys i just really want to share this with you

image

if you are looking for any music that you’d like just type a name of a band or a musican on the top-right search. then click on the black circle and choose “expand”. viola! now, you can continue doing this and find lots of music artists in your taste. thank you for the attention, and i hope you’ll find this post useful. 

You can use it with this http://tothebestof.com/ to check out the bands you find! :^0

"[after a half-hearted suicide attempt at age 13]

When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all?

All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess.

The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly.

Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says.

Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy.

Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do.

It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin.

And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given."
Mary Karr, “Cherry” (via lifeinpoetry)

bobbycaputo:

Illustrator Hama-House Creates Beautiful ‘Speed Sketches’ of People Doing Everyday Activitie.

yo yoyo lay it on me lemme know what’re the variables get that stress off ya chest yoyo

can i call you it is a ltototottlooooott

kneesntoews:

you know more people might enjoy Shakespeare if you taught them about the dick jokes and encouraged them to laugh at the jokes and understand the puns and the sex jokes and to treat the comedies like the ridiculous soap operas they are