ambedo n. a kind of melancholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life

(via tobaccoandshampoo)

The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts while the stupid ones are full of confidence. — Charles Bukowski (via onlinecounsellingcollege)

(via tilneyhale)

When someone claps between movements

bogleech:

gameraboy:

"A Sticky Situation" (1960) by Carl Barks

I like how advertising is literally still exactly as sexist as they’re joking about in this comic from 54 years ago.

(via fatalcookies)

jonnovstheinternet:

So I heard it’s Earth Day

image

(via thisiszuzu)

  • me at 7AM: tired
  • me at 12PM: tired
  • me at 3PM: tired
  • me at 7PM: tired
  • me at 10PM: tired
  • me at 2AM: TIME TO REDECORATE MY ENTIRE ROOM

pospiscal:

trying to comfort a friend
image

(via fuzzy-p4ntz)

snh-snh-snh:

I keep thinking oh man, I’m so immature. How am I allowed to be an adult.

Then I spend time with teenagers.

And it’s like, wow, okay, yeah. I am an adult. I am so adult. Look at me adulting all over the place.

(via eenjolras)

thepegosaurus:

Sometimes I just feel inexplicably guilty for all the plants I’ve neglected to death. 

(via storm-a-geddon)

samiferist asked you: mahler or tchaikovsky

(via parmandil)

[…] There must always be the human voice. For if music is the one art to which all others aspire, the human voice is the instrument all others seek to imitate (that includes trombones, maracas, piccolos, kettledrums, pianos, tin cans, and electronic belches.) Therefore those composers who today treat the voice as a “mechanical” instrument are exercising as vain a contradiction as that practiced by women who now tease their real hair so that it will resemble the wigs they can’t afford. — in Ned Rorem’s last diary — Nov 18th, 1963 (via fachyeahoperasingers)