(Source: streetstyled, via obliteratedheart)

Truly incredible voices.

Haruki Murakami you are the man

70 days

(Source: mofogifs, via the-absolute-best-posts)

Walt Grace’s Submarine Test, January 1967 - John Mayer

IMO this is one of his best written songs ever.

"Most days have no impact on the course of a life. May 23rd was a Wednesday."

(500) Days of Summer

"Thanks for the adventure. Now go have a new one!"

Ellie

Life hacks

these tips are more useful than the shit I learned in school.

probably more useful than any of the motivational hipster shit on your dashboard today

(Source: thebogonoslo, via ganook-ie)

There’s always that one moment of self-reflection that’s almost forced upon you when you reach the near-end, or it may very well be the actual end, of a long, relatively stagnant phase in your life that you have just grown so accustomed to. Excuse the terrible and cheesy metaphor but it’s like you’re teetering on the edge of a lake and you look down at your feet that are so close to touching the other side and in your peripherals, you see the reflection of your face. That’s when your eyes drift away from your feet and to your actual face and you look at yourself.

High school classes have concluded and I start senior service at my middle school on Monday. After that, it’s just a smooth ride of waiting and moping and idling until that twenty-second day of June when graduation will sneak up on us, just like every other momentous occasion in our lives.

I can confidently say, I don’t know what I know, and I don’t know what I don’t know. I mean, yes, I know that Queen Elizabeth I wanted a middle-of-the-road religious policy to try and appease the volatile British population after her harsh predecessors Catholic Mary and Protestant James, and yes I know that flight is a major motif in Song of Solomon, or yes, I don’t know how to answer most calculus problems without the help of PatrickJMT, and yes, I don’t know where the exact location of Lithuania on a map is, and yes, I can’t explain to you in detail the process of animal development in vertebrates. I can tell, though, that I truly have done a lot of growing up and learned things about myself, as cliché as that may be. But there’s this sort of meta-knowingness, that I take comfort in knowing that I don’t know about knowing. Cause you know what that means? That means that through these past four years of living day-to-day in those brick walls and sitting in those chairs and regurgitating and writing and changing, that I am conscious, I am aware.

My brother sent me a speech a while ago, in which the speaker gives a short anecdote about two fish and one asks the other, “What the hell is water?” We are surrounded by the most abundant and most obvious tangible and intangible stuff that largely define our being here, it is so critical to our existence that we don’t know how to handle it or manage it. And so, we slip into a state of apathy and just-getting-by and take the days as they come. But if high school has taught me anything, it’s that this isn’t it. There is way too much at stake for us to become this comatose. We have to start giving a shit and producing shit. I mean, it’s true that we are products of our environments. So we have to know what our environment is and how exactly we work with it. And only then can we finally say,

“This is water.”

“This is water.”

Awesome pictures of writers

unshelvable:

John Bryson’s 1959 pic of Ernest Hemingway high kicking a beer can. Image via

Vladimir Nabokov hunting down butterflies in Ithaca, New York in 1958. Photo by Carl Mydans, from the Life Photo Archive

Mark Twain taking his billiards game very, very seriously. Image via

UMMMMM…..AWESOME.

Source: http://flavorwire.com/288826/extremely-silly-photos-of-extremely-serious-writers?all=1

Play this and this simultaneously.

You’re welcome.

Tom Hiddleston reads She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron

She walks in beauty, like the night

   Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

   Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

   Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

   Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

   Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

   How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

   So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

   But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

   A heart whose love is innocent!

(Source: lazyocean)

"Often I sit and think of looking at things. The greed of my eye is insatiable. To think of seeing a new place fills me with unmeasurable excitement."

Virginia Woolf, Diary Entry: March 5, 1927

Worth Wondering - Bronze Radio Return

it’s weird how being a pussy is weak and having balls means you’re tough i mean punch me in the uterus and i will be fine i’m used to that shit once a month come at me but if i kick you in the balls you are down my man you are down hard

(Source: whenthesuspenderscomeoff)