Get scared. It will do you good. Smoke a bit, stare blankly at some ceilings, beat your head against some walls, refuse to see some people, paint and write. Get scared some more. Allow your little mind to do nothing but function. Stay inside, go out - I don’t care what you’ll do; but stay scared as hell. You will never be able to experience everything. So, please, do poetical justice to your soul and simply experience yourself.
—  Albert Camus, Notebooks, 1951-1959
You said your soul faded along time ago, your atoms found another body to settle in and your thoughts no longer belong to you, you said you lost yourself in a cold winter night, you lost yourself in a poem you read and a song you listened to. You said you killed yourself in autumn when the leafs were colliding with the wind, you killed yourself using a flower that glowed brighter than stars and you killed yourself for the purpose of living. You said he gave you life but he was waiting for death so he destroyed himself and you both fell. You said she made you feel like home but she was homeless and once she found a home in another body she left you homeless. You said they gave you cigarettes and told you to smoke it away but you didn’t want to hurt your lungs so you hurt them all instead. You said he was your miracle, your shooting star, but he left you because you weren’t his 11:11. You said you weren’t good with words but each time you spoke you killed them with poison. You said you were sick but you found a cure, not made of chemicals but of galaxies, they said you died refusing the real medicine. You said you were in love with a body made of secrets, you said you wrote them all on your skin but they said you made them up and wrote them on papers. You said you figured them out and crawled under their skin, but they said you barley exist in yourself to exist in others.

In addition to our Immediate Consciousness, which if of a thoroughly Personal Nature, there exist a second Psychic System of a Collective, Universal and Impersonal Nature which is Identical in All Individuals.” - C.G.Jung

I am not the breeze at noon
Not soothing enough to pacify the enterprise
Of humid innocence
and stray summer convictions
But you can tie a hammock on my back
And attach it to the next palm tree
And start swinging
And think of temporary loss of misdirection
Like withdrawal from watery anxiety
in paper cups you always drink from
Just so you know
I am a tangible soul
Who offers comfort
And you’ll hear no word
from my valid being
While you are drinking your colada
—  JV Ardidon, “How I Wonder Of Your Summer Delectation”

anonymous asked:

now is when i start unfollowing all of my favorite fallout blogs for their asinine judgements about a game they haven't even played yet. please dont follow the herd, dally.

I’ve literally just said the pipboy is different, because it is. 

I haven’t said anything bad at all. 

There’s a dog in the fucking game.


It’s a gift for an actor to play. It’s something I relished, and I know Tobias did as well,” Heughan says. “Honestly it’s some of the most challenging, rewarding yet intense work I’ve ever done. I’m so proud of what we’ve done.” […]
If the penultimate episode was a showcase for Menzies’ talent, then the finale is the perfect vehicle for Heughan to show off his skill as an actor. (It’s no wonder Starz and fans have launched an Emmy Awards push for them, as well as Balfe.) Moore found himself “impressed by [Heughan’s] willingness to go these places,” calling the finale “Sam’s show.”
“It takes a certain fearlessness to be that vulnerable, and to be a lead male character, and to go through this story, and to convey to the audience how completely broken this can make you,” he says. “The thing that he’s feeling the most guilty about is that there’s a moment of ‘Jack made love to him’ and he allowed himself to enjoy it for that split second, and he can’t get over it. That’s a powerful thing deal with as a man, especially in this culture, and to be willing to play it as real as Sam did I thought was remarkable.
—  Source