Norepi

fuckyeah1990s:

hardcore gaming

pinmeupagainstthesky:

These, for me, are the two most depressing paintings in western history. They were painted by post-impressionist Henry de Toulouse-Lautrec, a man who, due to inbreeding, was born with a genetic disorder that prevented his legs from growing after they were broken. After being so thoroughly mocked for is appearance, he became an alcoholic, which is what eventually caused his institutionalization and death. His only known romantic relations were with prostitutes.

And then he paints something like this which is so beautiful and tender and sentimental. It seems like the couple in bed really loves each other—cares about each other. Wakes up happy to look at each other. And I see that love and passion and I wonder how lonely he must have been. I wonder how he could paint something like this without it breaking his heart. 

Maybe they say artists should create what they know, not because its unbelievable when they extend themselves beyond their experiences, but because when they pull it off with such elegance, it’s so damn unbearable to look at. I hate thinking of Lautrec, wondering about the lovers he created and knowing it was beyond his experience. Creating something that he knows is beautiful and knows he’ll never really understand. 

I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy

because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless

and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that.

Robin Williams  (via lovequotesrus)
One day, whether you
are 14,
28 
or 65

you will stumble upon
someone who will start
a fire in you that cannot die.

However, the saddest,
most awful truth
you will ever come to find––

is they are not always
with whom we spend our lives.
Beau Taplin, "The Awful Truth" {Hunting Season – 28 copies left} (via afadthatlastsforever)
Just a few random thoughts

Lately I’ve been highly considering deleting this tumblr account, but the thing that’s stopping me is the fact that I’ve had this account for four… Years. Through tumblr I have gained friends, lost friends, and everything in between. I can’t delete four years of my past even if it’s stupid pictures of pixels on the screen, because it has all meant something to me at some point.

Even though I’ve never seen tumblr as a means for followers or popularity, there’s no denying the fact that there are lots of people I care about on this site. If there’s any one thing I hope that’s true is the sentiment of keeping people in your life who are important to you, no matter how painful it is. I guess that’s my current dilemma. The thing that has inspired me to write all this is my parents are finally detaching themselves from my brother and I. I feel liberated, but at the same time, disappointed. It all just means that since they are living their lives, it is time for me to live mine.

May the bridges I burn light the way.

whenradwasafad:

(*≧▽≦)
sixpenceee:

babyangelcastiel:

sixpenceee:

I have no idea where this is from and what it’s referencing to. I found this on a random thread. 

whispers ‘why’

whispers back ‘i wish i knew’

sixpenceee:

babyangelcastiel:

sixpenceee:

I have no idea where this is from and what it’s referencing to. I found this on a random thread. 

whispers ‘why’

whispers back ‘i wish i knew’

Now “tribal trends” are totally “in.” You can walk into any store in the mall and see “Native” imagery everywhere. As a Native person, when I look at them, I can’t help but remember the not-so-distant past when my people weren’t allowed, by law, to wear these things. It’s such a constant reminder of the colonial power structures still in place. Back in the day, white people had the power to take away our culture, and now they have the power to wear it however they see fit. These are our images, our cultural symbols, yet we are completely powerless to have control over them.
Adrienne K. | Dear Christina Fallin (via star-trekker-archive00001)

You will always be too much of something for someone: too big, too loud, too soft, too edgy. If you round out your edges, you lose your edge.

Apologize for mistakes. Apologize for unintentionally hurting someone — profusely. But don’t apologize for being who you are.

danielle laporte (via chelsieautumn)