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Today in downtown San Diego, I watched a blue collar Mexican man get harassed for being Mexican. It was a blatant act of discrimination. And the man actually began crying. As he left the office building, he took off his jacket. His t-shirt underneath read, “I love the USA!
MMT (via theburiedlife)Posted on May 30, 2012 via THE BURIED LIFE with 89 notes
Source: theburiedlife
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(via fetus-feet)
Posted on April 24, 2012 via DearJay, with 106,249 notes
Source: dear-jay
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Posted on April 13, 2012 via Surfer Dude! with 3,308 notes
Source: surferdude182
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In the pale light of the Moon, I play the Game of You. Whoever I am. Whoever you are. All sense of where I am, who I am, and where I’m going, has been swallowed by the dark. And I walk through the stars and sky… a trinity of dreams beneath the moon.
Neil Gaiman, Sandman (via journeyofthefool)(via strangephenomena)
Posted on April 13, 2012 via The Journey with 129 notes
Source: journeyofthefool
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I’m redoing my room aaaaand these are pictures of the new ceiling/walls. :]
(via thechroniclesofbeth)
Posted on April 13, 2012 via love & be loved. with 60 notes
Source: one-millionpieces
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I learned a long time ago that life often introduces young people to situations they are in no way prepared for, even good girls, lucky girls who want for nothing. Sometimes, when you least expect it, you become the girl in the woods. You lose your name because another one is forced on you. You think you are alone until you find books about girls like you. Salvation is certainly among the reasons I read. Reading and writing have always pulled me out of the darkest experiences in my life. Stories have given me a place in which to lose myself. They have allowed me to remember. They have allowed me to forget. They have allowed me to imagine different endings and better possible worlds.
From Roxane Gay’s superb, truly incredible essay on strength, stories, and the Hunger Games. (via mollitudo)(via strangephenomena)
Posted on April 13, 2012 via mollitūdō with 301 notes
Source: mollitudo
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There are more like us. All over the world
There are confused people, who can’t remember
The name of their dog when they wake up, and
people
Who love God but can’t remember whereHe was when they went to sleep. It’s
All right. The world cleanses itself this way.
A wrong number occurs to you in the middle
Of the night, you dial it, it rings just in timeTo save the house. And the second-story man
Gets the wrong address, where the insomniac lives,
And he’s lonely, and they talk, and the thief
Goes back to college. Even in graduate school,You can wander into the wrong classroom,
And hear great poems lovingly spoken
By the wrong professor. And you find your soul
And greatness has a defender, and even in death
you’re safe.Robert Bly, People Like Us (via grammatolatry)(via strangephenomena)
Posted on April 8, 2012 via grammatolatry with 87 notes
Source: grammatolatry
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She may have looked normal on the outside, but once you’d seen her handwriting you knew she was deliciously complicated inside.
Jeffrey Eugenides, The Marriage Plot (via strangephenomena)Posted on April 8, 2012 via Strange Phenomena with 19 notes
Source: strangephenomena
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this always makes me cry.
You Should Date An Illiterate Girl by Charles Warnke.
(via strangephenomena)
Posted on April 8, 2012 via the pocketmouse with 1,843 notes
Source: thepocketmouse
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We all need someone to look at us. We can be divided into four categories according to the kind of look we wish to live under: The first category longs for the look of an infinite number of anonymous eyes, in other words, for the look of the public. The second category is made up of people who have a vital need to be looked at by many known eyes. They are the tireless hosts of cocktail parties and dinners. They are happier than the people in the first category, who, when they lose their public, have the feeling that the lights have gone out in the room of their lives. This happens to nearly all of them sooner or later. people in the second category, on the other hand, can always come up with the eyes they need. Then there is the third category, the category of people who need to be constantly before the eyes of the person they love. Their situation is as dangerous as the situation of people in the first category. One day the eyes of their beloved will close, and the room will go dark. And finally there is the fourth category, the rarest, the category of people who live in the imaginary eyes of those who are not present — they are the dreamers.
Milan Kundera (via iloveyoursoul)(via strangephenomena)
Posted on April 8, 2012 via (hey you) with 143 notes
Source: iloveyoursoul
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Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you’ll never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved.
Charlie Kaufman, Synecdoche, New York: The Shooting Script (via strangephenomena)Posted on April 8, 2012 via Strange Phenomena with 37 notes
Source: strangephenomena
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I remember these
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When you’re trying to cheat and you make eye contact with the teacher
Posted on December 6, 2011 via Tumblr's Funniest with 51,250 notes
Source: lmaogtfo
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love, dynamite. on We Heart It. http://weheartit.com/entry/15557743
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