Amen.

(via thisisyourbrain-)

8:05 pm  •  6 December 2011  •  7,704 notes

baileyexplainsitall:

This is the best cover of one of my favorite songs.

I would appreciate this so much more if this girl was actually playing Skinny Love.

8:21 pm  •  30 September 2011  •  2 notes

baileyexplainsitall:

Sorry, I have been seriously slacking on writing this blog. So many things have changed in my life since I moved to San Marcos and began the journey that is college. The most amazing thing happened to me. I found God and not in the way we see so often where I say “I love God” where I go and get…

 I don’t reblog things. But this is the greatest post to ever be posted to Tumblr. Ever. In the world. On the Internet. Ever.

I love you, Bailey Jo!

9:47 pm  •  29 September 2011  •  4 notes

monstersinyourhead:

asianmichelle:

thedailywhat:

Pareidolia of the Day: 46-year-old Yvonne Darnell of Burgess Hill, West Sussex is photographed holding a baby carrot that she claims looks like, well, a baby.

“I couldn’t believe it,” she says of the misshapen taproot she pulled out of her own garden. “It’s so funny. I saw it and thought, ‘It looks like an alien baby’.”

Darnell has even gone so far as to give the little guy a name: Kevin. Addressing Kevin’s future, she told The Argus Kevin will have “a short but happy life.”

Dear Kevin: Get the hell out of there now.

[theargus / metro / h/t: urlesque.]

that is clearly a mandrake and she should really be wearing earmuffs.

can’t take these stupid muggles……

^^ this

 I can’t even.

(via thebeautyineveryinch)

9:28 pm  •  31 August 2011  •  3,697 notes

• no mosquitoes
• average temperature in the 70’s… YES.
• drive from NY to RI
• SHULLENBERGER
• aka Shully
• fellow english nerds
• freedom
• Boston trip
• July 4th
• lugging around a suitcase that could easily hold a small child or chupacabra
• no chupacabras
• no pollution
• strangers
• First Baptist Church of AMERICA
• the weather
• wonderful weather
• did I mention the weather?

This is me procrastinating packing for the trip from hell.

12:30 am  •  11 June 2011  •  3 notes

“What about little microphones? What if everyone swallowed them, and they played the sounds of our hearts through little speakers, which could be in the pouches of our overalls? When you skateboarded down the street at night you could hear everyone’s heartbeat, and they could hear yours, sort of like sonar. One weird thing is, I wonder if everyone’s hearts would start to beat at the same time, like how women who live together have their menstrual periods at the same time, which I know about, but don’t really want to know about. That would be so weird, except that the place in the hospital where babies are born would sound like a crystal chandelier in a houseboat, because the babies wouldn’t have had time to match up their heartbeats yet. And at the finish line at the end of the New York City Marathon it would sound like war.”

 I’ve always thought it would be some kind of beautiful if everything you read in books could be created. Like these little microphones, or little pouches you could pocket away your sadness, like the letters I stack up from colleges and file away in alphabetical order. What about a filing system for sadnesses? What if you could watch your life on DVD? Rewind. Pause. Fast forward. Is any of this right? Is a life spent pulling from fiction built upon fact or fantasy? It’s all life imitating art imitating life imitating art… All that crap, right? So many questions. Like why do right-handed people live, on average, 9 years longer than left-handed people? And what does this mean for those who are ambidextrous? You can get scholarships for being ambidextrous, but really you’re just getting money to get screwed with life expectancy. And if everyone had little microphones attached to their hearts, and a marathon sounds like war, then what’s a defibrilator producing sounds of? Is the silence when you die a lack of color, or did everyone just get winded and stop running? I always cheated the fitness gram and never ran when I needed to, if I even showed up at all. And that’s not something I’d want to rewind. But I don’t think life works like that. Things are always better written down than moving.

Jonathan Safran Foer said, “I think and think and think, I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.” Now, flip it. Can you write yourself into happiness? Is everything being imitated by life and art and life and art really just a way of making a happiness? Again, I don’t really think life works that way. It’s all a filing system. What about a pen you wrote your sadness down with that flowed ink made of your thoughts? So when you used it, your thoughts were sealed on the page in the ink, and composed in letters stored away in filing cabinets sorted by date. Would you need to watch your life on DVD? Or is that life composed of sadnesses?

“Isn’t it pretty to think so?”

11:45 pm  •  25 April 2011  •  3 notes

soul meets body

11:12 pm  •  3 April 2011

april fool

1:01 pm  •  2 April 2011  •  1 note

degausser

12:09 am  •  1 April 2011  •  1 note

everythingisilluminat3d:

I told you to be patient

I told you to be fine

I told you to be balanced

I told you to be kind

Now all your love is wasted?

Then who the hell was I?

Now I’m breaking at the britches

And at the end of all your lines

 Skinny Love automatic reblog.

10:31 pm  •  9 March 2011  •  6 notes