I love how behind every single window, there is a different person who has a story that we know nothing about and I sometimes forget that my life isn’t the only life in the world
(Source: eraessera, via thuperthentai)
THAT’S PIXEL ART ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!
(Source: chipsprites, via thuperthentai)
You don’t understand an antagonist until you understand why he’s a protagonist in his own version of the world. — John Rogers (via psych-facts)
In a perfect world I could eat Breakfast food, Zunzi’s, and Chipotle every day
basically, anyone reading this knows that tumblr + studying = difficult. we’re all procrastinators. so i thought i’d share my favorite ways to crack down, not suck, and make it through finals week. you’ll need
- this or this. it’ll whip your ass into gear. you name a list of websites that distract you, set a timer, and bam. no more hour long study breaks. the best - or worst - part is, it can’t be undone by the application, by deleting the application, or by restarting the computer. you just gotta wait, and if you’re going to wait, you may as well study.
- goals. when you sit down to study, write down everything you’re going to do. then do it. aimlessly staring at your books won’t do shit.
- something to listen to. i suggest movie scores, song covers by the vitamin string quartet, or white noise.
- a queue. if you’re really obsessed with keeping your blog up to date, set aside some time, fatten up your queue, and let your blog run itself for a few days.
- breaks. during your breaks, dance, run around, work out, go for a walk, talk to your friends, call your mom. going back on the internet is an easy way to get out of the mood, so i wouldn’t suggest it.
- tea and coffee - if not for the caffeine, then for the feeling of cozying up with your text books and feeling studious.
- a place to study. it doesn’t matter if it’s in a coffee house, a library, or your kitchen table. as long as your bed’s not in sight and tempting you into a nap, you’re good.
that’s all i’ve got. i’d try to think of more, but that, my friends, would be procrastinating. off to study.
bringing this back because IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN
Finals are lurking right around the corner. I figure we could all use this!
even in video games i cant bring myself to choose any of the rude/mean talking options
#FICTIONAL PEOPLE MIGHT GET SAD OK
thegodmolecule:here is a tribe in Africa where the birth date of a child is counted not from when they were born, nor from when they are conceived but from the day that the child was a thought in its mother’s mind. And when a woman decides that she will have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree, by herself, and she listens until she can hear the song of the child that wants to come. And after she’s heard the song of this child, she comes back to the man who will be the child’s father, and teaches it to him. And then, when they make love to physically conceive the child, some of that time they sing the song of the child, as a way to invite it.
And then, when the mother is pregnant, the mother teaches that child’s song to the midwives and the old women of the village, so that when the child is born, the old women and the people around her sing the child’s song to welcome it. And then, as the child grows up, the other villagers are taught the child’s song. If the child falls, or hurts its knee, someone picks it up and sings its song to it. Or perhaps the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty, then as a way of honoring this person, the people of the village sing his or her song.
In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them.
The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity. When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another.
And it goes this way through their life. In marriage, the songs are sung, together. And finally, when this child is lying in bed, ready to die, all the villagers know his or her song, and they sing—for the last time—the song to that person.
You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn’t. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. Just keep singing and you’ll find your way home.
This is so sweet.