Something on your mind, feel free to talk to us. We have pie.
Reblog, click the picture, and prepare for battle.
after a while i became convinced that the words were mocking me
Nothing happened.
I WAS PROMISED A BATTLE
*throws down gauntlet*
Edit: Went back. This is the best thing to happen to my dashboard ever.
Reblogging again because my followers need to see this. To be clear, rebog, go to your actual blog, then click the picture.
The difference between Freedom & Slavery is one thin line.
woah.
genius.
Message received.
One of the most mindfucking genius pictures on Tumblr. God bless the person who did this
(Fonte: you-could-save-me-tooo)
When people turn to fictional characters, it’s often because they want an escape. The stories of these people shelter us from the storm of our daily lives; they save us, if only for a little while. But when we really give in, become invested, let ourselves be vulnerable, something changes. We begin to feel that we know them. It’s no longer just an escape, but part of us, something that makes us who we are.
These characters teach us that incredible adversity can be overcome. That people can love each other forever. That life can be an adventure. That magic can be real. And even if these miracles have never happened to us, we begin to go through life believing that, someday, they could.
“And I promise you that you’re important. Don’t look at me like that- in all my 900 years I’ve never met someone who wasn’t important.”
“Cheer up mate, it gets better. Look at me, I was once a little kid living under the stairs. You’ll do fine.”
“Hey. I know it seems like life sucks, that you’ve got the devil on your tail. Hell, sometimes you do. But you’re strong enough to beat him. You’ve got friends at your back and family too, and that’s what really counts in the end.”
“Don’t be silly, they’re wrong about you; of course you matter. You’ve always mattered.”
(Fonte: romangodfrey)
The Problem with 'Boys Will Be Boys'
For months, every morning when my daughter was in preschool, I watched her construct an elaborate castle out of blocks, colorful plastic discs, bits of rope, ribbons and feathers, only to have the same little boy gleefully destroy it within seconds of its completion.
No matter how many times he did it, his parents never swooped in BEFORE the morning’s live 3-D reenactment of “Invasion of AstroMonster.” This is what they’d say repeatedly:
“You know! Boys will be boys!”
“He’s just going through a phase!”
“He’s such a boy! He LOVES destroying things!”
“Oh my god! Girls and boys are SO different!”
“He. Just. Can’t. Help himself!”
I tried to teach my daughter how to stop this from happening. She asked him politely not to do it. We talked about some things she might do. She moved where she built. She stood in his way. She built a stronger foundation to the castle, so that, if he did get to it, she wouldn’t have to rebuild the whole thing. In the meantime, I imagine his parents thinking, “What red-blooded boy wouldn’t knock it down?”
She built a beautiful, glittery castle in a public space.
It was so tempting.
He just couldn’t control himself and, being a boy, had violent inclinations.
She had to keep her building safe.
Her consent didn’t matter. Besides, it’s not like she made a big fuss when he knocked it down. It wasn’t a “legitimate” knocking over if she didn’t throw a tantrum.
His desire — for power, destruction, control, whatever- - was understandable.
Maybe she “shouldn’t have gone to preschool” at all. OR, better if she just kept her building activities to home.
I know it’s a lurid metaphor, but I taught my daughter the preschool block precursor of don’t “get raped” and this child, Boy #1, did not learn the preschool equivalent of “don’t rape.”
Not once did his parents talk to him about invading another person’s space and claiming for his own purposes something that was not his to claim. Respect for her and her work and words was not something he was learning. How much of the boy’s behavior in coming years would be excused in these ways, be calibrated to meet these expectations and enforce the “rules” his parents kept repeating?
There was another boy who, similarly, decided to knock down her castle one day. When he did it his mother took him in hand, explained to him that it was not his to destroy, asked him how he thought my daughter felt after working so hard on her building and walked over with him so he could apologize. That probably wasn’t much fun for him, but he did not do it again.
There was a third child. He was really smart. He asked if he could knock her building down. She, beneficent ruler of all pre-circle-time castle construction, said yes… but only after she was done building it and said it was OK. They worked out a plan together and eventually he started building things with her and they would both knock the thing down with unadulterated joy. You can’t make this stuff up.
Take each of these three boys and consider what he might do when he’s older, say, at college, drunk at a party, mad at an ex-girlfriend who rebuffs him and uses words that she expects will be meaningful and respect, “No, I don’t want to. Stop. Leave.”
The “overarching attitudinal characteristic” of abusive men is entitlement.
(Fonte: lastlifeinuniverse)
JUST IN TIME.
JUST IN TIME FANDOM.
ALWAYS REBLOG ON TUESDAY
IT’S A LAW
EVERY.SINGLE.TUESDAY.
(Fonte: deanhasthetardis)
Chris Pine on The Graham Norton Show
ogni giorno scopri sempre cose più belle su quest’uomo
you don’t know pain or agony until you’ve lost to the same boss fight more than 3 times
and then you have the unskippable cutscene dialogue memorized, so you start repeating it in a mocking, angry voice
(Fonte: xionsexual)
