Sometimes You Gain Less Than You Lose.

kingcheddarxvii:

This is a picture of me with a small rubber duck suctioned to my cheek. When I was 15, and still figuring out the things that made me unique, I thought it would be cool to keep a small rubber duck attached to my face. It wasn’t, but I loved that duck. His name was Duck o’ The Irish, because he had a small shamrock printed on his chest, and I took him with me everywhere. One day I could not find Duck o’ The Irish, and I grieved for him for many months. My little sister began a collection of similar ducks however and she came into the possession of an identical, shamrock-clad duck. She offered it to me, but I graciously refused — for there was only one Duck o’ The Irish for me. I lived duckless for many years, until the other day when I found this duck in the attic. Initially I thought, perhaps, it was the original Duck o’ The Irish, but then I realized it could just as easily have been the one belonging to my dear sister. But, alas! Oho! I found earlier that my little sister’s Irish duckling was still parked in a mug in her room. So unless she had more ducks just like it than the one, we could stand to reason that the one I found in the attic was indeed my Duck o’ The Irish, reunited with me at last. Of course, this logic falls apart if in fact my little sister owned several ducks like this one, but there’s no way to confirm it. I suppose I will continue living as if this duck on my face is my beloved duck, and I won’t worry about the legitimacy of that viewpoint. There’s a comfort in not having the answer sometimes, and there’s always the option of asking God, who is all-knowing, if and when I get to heaven. And now you’ve read a very long, needlessly informative post about something which you stand to gain nothing by knowing about, and I hope this the low point of your mindless, nocturnal dash-scrolling, so that you may realize that you’re only wasting time you could be spending asleep. Go to sleep

wrenkingtson:

I was downtown tonight and I passed this group of big kinda scary looking guys and all I heard was “are you fucking kidding me? harry potter wouldn’t last 10 minutes in the hunger games.”

(via everythingisinyourhead)

nonomella:

my 6-year-olds were upset because i taught them ‘television’ and they were like NO TEACHER IT’S A TV

so i wrote ‘television’ on the board and highlighted “T” and “V” and they reacted like i’d just taught them the secrets of the universe

(via everythingisinyourhead)

All of a sudden two decades have passed and you still have not kissed anyone with tongue, or kissed anyone at all for that matter, or had a 3 AM conversation with someone who would rather look into your eyes for ten minutes straight than talk. You have never worn a lover’s sweater or “forgotten” it at home in your bedroom just so you would have an excuse to see them again. You have never even stood face-to-face with someone who makes your hands shake so hard it feels like they’re both having a separate anxiety attack.
This causes you much guilt and self-blame and sadness but above all, an overwhelming curiosity. Are you really that ugly, that unwanted, that uninteresting, that boring, that no one, absolutely no one, has ever looked at you like the only thing on earth?
The answer is no. The better answer is that someone out there, somewhere in the world, is “wondering what it’s like to meet someone like you,” and they have two decades worth of love stored in their veins like a shoot-‘em-up drug, and they’re just about ready to inject it into someone else’s bloodstream. All you have to do is roll up your sleeves and wait for it to happen.
At times you felt so lonely you could stand at the edge of a cliff with nothing beneath you but air and grass and a long, long way down, and you’d still feel emptier than that canyon itself. Maybe you even danced with yourself alone in your room a few times, arms outstretched around a ghost, pretending someone else’s hands were on your waist, someone else’s eyes boring into yours.
Or maybe you fell temporarily in love with strangers on public transportation, fell in love with anybody who so much as accidentally brushed your hand on the way past. For you, falling in love with dozens of people a day was a coping mechanism for not having anyone to love you in return. But people are not eggs and falling in love with a dozen of them does not mean your shell will remain uncracked. One day you’re going to hit the point where you’re so desperate for human contact that you’re going to snap in half and all your love will bleed out like egg yolk.
But someone out there is eating a bowl of Ramen noodles right now, or putting on slippers, or settling into bed. They are doing all the normal things that you’ve done in your own life. They are just like you. They have cellulite and extra fat in all the wrong places and goals and fears and doubts and bad handwriting.
The truth is that they are just like you, and being just like you, they’re looking for a lover too. They’re what you might call a soulmate.
They think they’re all alone in feeling the way they do, but you’re really both two halves of a whole.
And one day you’ll meet them, bump into them on the street, and your two halves will be put together, and you’ll make one.

twinkletwinkleyoulittlefuck:

thepreciousthing:

adire-adire:

victorysunshine:

goldfish-kisses:

geek-in-a-box:

martiemcfly:

WHY ARENT THERE ADULT-SIZED PLAYGROUNDS

LIKE EVERYTHING IS THE SAME AS A KIDS PLAYGROUND

BUT BIGGER

WHY DO WE NOT HAVE THOSE

theme parks. just. theme parks.

but u have to pay for theme parks

that’s the adult part

son of a bitch

ladies and gentlemen, behold

the St. Louis City Museum:

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Playground for adults and children.

They even serve alcohol.

I know where we’re going guys

(via you-me-at-dickss)

seedy:

"mariah carey impersonator"

mellowminty:

i’d really like some wireless waterproof earbuds for shower time

(Source: mellowminty, via you-me-at-dickss)

o-my-boys:

#OH MY GOD#THEY SKIPPED SCHOOL#TO AUDITION FOR THE FILM#NO FUCKING WONDER THEY GOT THE PART#THAT IS LITERALLY SOMETHING#FRED AND GEORGE WOULD HIGH FIVE OVER
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