we are made of starstuff

Reasons To Be Happy:

1. Dead trees still stand and so can you.
2. You have five fingers on each hand. One day those fingers will travel from your lap to someone else’s and that person will know all the bad stuff and still want to kiss you. 
3. Seasons are guaranteed when nothing else seems to be.

(Source: pornogrinder, via alienveins)

chaosghost:

stoleyourgirlfriendand:

perrydaplatypus404:

“Rule #1 of Tumblr: Always reblog your crea—”

“This is our site! You must never tell anyone about Tumb—”

“IF YOU DON’T REBLOG THIS, JUST GO AND DELETE YOUR BL—”

“OMG GUYS TUMBLR WAS DOWN AGAIN I SURVIVED THE TUMBLR APOC—”

“OMG NOOOOO YAHOO BOUGHT TUMBLR! GOODBYE EVERYONE WE’RE ALL GONNA DI—”

“BUT IT’S DAVID KARP; HOW CAN YOU NOT LIKE OUR LEADER?! OUR DA-“

Reblog if you’re a 90s-

(via justjasper)

[AGGRESSIVELY PROTECTS MELISSA MCCALL FROM SEASON THREE]

(Source: swingsetindecember)

commiekinkshamer:

i have no problem with pointing out that anyone of any gender can be an abuser, rapist, pedophile etc because that’s absolutely true.

but the problem with always emphasizing “yes but it happens to everyone, not just women (or people of colour, or trans* people, etc)!” is that it depoliticizes the issue.

violence is not an accident, it is reflective of social power relations that permeate society at every level

(via fuckyeahwomenprotesting2)

You Were You Are Elegy by Mary Jo Bang

Fragile like a child is fragile.
Destined not to be forever.
Destined to become other
To mother. Here I am
Sitting on a chair, thinking
About you. Thinking
About how it was
To talk to you.
How sometimes it was wonderful
And sometimes it was awful.
How drugs when drugs were
Undid the good almost entirely
But not entirely
Because good could always be seen
Glimmering like lame glimmers
In the window of a shop
Called Beautiful
Things Never Last Forever.
I loved you. I love you. You were.
And you are. Life is experience.
It’s all so simple. Experience is
The chair we sit on.
The sitting. The thinking
Of you where you are a blank
To be filled
In by missing. I loved you.
I love you like I love
All beautiful things.
True beauty is truly seldom.
You were. You are
In May. May now is looking onto
The June that is coming up.
This is how I measure
The year. Everything Was My Fault
Has been the theme of the song
I’ve been singing,
Even when you’ve told me to quiet.
I haven’t been quiet.
I’ve been crying. I think you
Have forgiven me. You keep
Putting your hand on my shoulder
When I’m crying.
Thank you for that. And
For the ineffable sense
Of continuance. You were. You are
The brightest thing in the shop window
And the most beautiful seldom I ever saw.