It makes me upset that this is a casual stereotype. That woman should give up things to be skinny, to be perfect, when the truth is that everyone is perfect, no matter what their weight, body type or even physical appearance. People should know that on both inside and outside, they are beautiful. If losing weight makes you feel better, or putting on make-up or shaving, then go for it. But even without all that they are beautiful. You can be perfect and eat all the sweets in reach, you can be perfect and drink an entire liter of soda, you are you, and you should never live up to anyone but yourselves expectations.
"you can’t be just friends with people of the gender you’re attracted to"
myth actually true. i, as a bisexual, can confirm that i have no friends.
pansexuals spend their lives in solitude, with only rocks for company
meanwhile asexuals are friends with everyone. literally every single person on the planet. i do not know how i remember so many names
thank god this is here. the youtube versions been muted
There’s a dollar in my g string
THAT IS YOUR D STRING. G IS ALL THE WAY ON MY LEFT.
EXCUSE ME you uncultured swine. That IS my G string. LEFT TO RIGHT IT’S: C G D A ON A CELLO. And if you notice the dollar is wonderfully tucked in my G STRING.
DO NOT DOUBT MY SIX YEARS OF EXPERIENCE.
THEY’RE NOT CALLED VIOLINISTS THEY’RE CALLED CELLISTS
IT,WAS THE VIOLINIST THAT THOUGHT IT WAS THE WRONG STRING JESUS CHRIST
This is just one massive train wreck
String players can be a bit high-strung.
y’all need to cellout
We all need to calm down before this gets violin-t
I’d like to thank all the blogs i follow to waste time and my day.
I laminated a paper towel
why does this have 31 thousand notes
You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.
But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity
Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.
However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.
Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!
But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.
The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
But you remain.
Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.
All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.
But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.
Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever.
Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning?
OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
T OW E L
I D K
Write. A. Book.
What if I did write a book
and the pages of that book
were made out of
starting today all blogs without the following image will be deleted within 24 hours
i’m not even afraid of deletion. i just want this image on my blog
This is like installing Windows on a Mac.
finishing a series but still being attached to the story and its characters
Its called the moment a fangirl is born.
they’re like tiny 8-legged cats
how can anyone hate them
So many spiders on my dash today man I LOVE I T
How can people hate them!? They’re ADORABLE!
Reblogging to help my mom get over her shit.