Tour guide:And if you look to your left you will see a group of emos crying
Child:*raises hand* But why are they crying?
Tour guide:Well no one knows for sure but rumour has it that an idea ended today -March 22nd- in a short, emotionless paragraph on an important website. But we will never know the truth because the post was mysteriously deleted..
and it makes me so damn frustrated because i can’t even look you in the eyes anymore and it’s not even because i’m angry it’s because i’m afraid. i’m afraid your eyes will reel me in again and my soul will return to the place where it likes to dance in the lovely blue of your irises. i’m frustrated because even though i claim to be over you, here i am, still writing about you.
Reblog for your url to be put into a mason jar to be given to Tay!!
I will do everyone who reblogs this, no joke. I have floor seats in Nashville on 9•26 and will do whatever it takes to make sure it gets through to her! If you want to write a short paragraph, I’ll include it if you message it to me!!
“you want to be oppressed so badly” aka “I don’t want to acknowledge the oppressive power structures that grant me power over you and actively harm you so instead I’m going to pretend you don’t understand the experiences of both yourself and others who are harmed by the same power structures as you are in order to invalidate any and all of your attempts at spreading awareness of the harm done to members of your community by this power structure I benefit from so that I can continue to benefit from it unchecked by anyone”
Fernando Pessoa's The Book of Disquiet is the most alluring, unique “autobiography” in literature. First published over 50 years after his death, the collection of short, aphoristic paragraphs, part prose poetry, and part descriptive narrative all compromise of the autobiography of Bernardo Soares, one of Pessoa’s alternate selves. During his career Pessoa had several heteronyms, which are imaginary characters who posses their own unique physiques, writing styles and autobiographies.
When Pessoa passed away in 1935, he left a truck behind with several unpublished work in a range of languages. His self-reflective literature was compiled and came to be The Book of Disquiet.
We fiercely recommend that everybody reads this book. It is a wonderful mix of existentialism, dream journal, diary, poetry and confession intertwined into one. Pessoa’s words pierce your soul in the most dangerous way, you find unity within his writing and his description of solitude.
Pessoa’s prose is all feeling, but intelligent feeling. He is not looking to make you depress or rip out your shrinking heart, his writing resonates with your soul. There’s a sense of understanding and introspection you experience when you read The Book of Disquiet. It is the bible’s soul. Pessoa writes:
“My soul is a hidden orchestra; I know not what instruments, what fiddle strings and harps, drums and tamboura I sound and clash inside myself. All I hear is the symphony.”
You will not want to put this book down. He has an innate gift to rationalize feelings of loneliness, isolation, of being, of feeling purposeless and tired. You will find yourself constantly making notes, annotating passages, and rereading excerpts endlessly. Pessoa urges you to question your existence, your sanity, and most importantly, your personhood, the essence of it all.
There is nothing quite like it. It is difficult to describe, but it is nothing short of hauntingly and intellectually beautiful. Fernando Pessoa is up there with literary greats, like Fyodor Dostoyevsky and Franz Kafka. The Book of Disquiet is a metaphysical, philosophical addiction. We do not boast, we promise.
Read excerpts from the book here! Get the bookhere!
Are you a photographer? Do you want to share your work with a new audience? Then look no further… Paragraph Shorts is holding their first ever photography contest!
Who we are: We are Paragraph Shorts, an iPad app curating the best short stories from around the web alongside stunning, captivating images.
The Objective: We pair our featured stories with photographs that we feel capture their essence. You love stories, have a great eye for images, and can conceptualize a unique shoot based on the theme HEROES. From the pool of submissions, will choose seven photos that we feel best align with the stories. If your photograph is chosen, it will be featured alongside the story in an upcoming story collection.
What you should do: Upload your photograph to the flickr group (https://www.flickr.com/groups/prgrphphotocontest/) anytime from July 15th, 2015 until THE EXTENDED DEADLINE OF August 21st, 2015. The image you submit must be your own! If you prefer to submit via email, please send your image to email@example.com with the subject line “PARAGRAPH PHOTO CONTEST.”
The winning photographers will be notified by the end of August, and the collection will be released in early fall.
**Your submission gives Paragraph permission to use your photograph in the photo contest collection, or a future collections if we choose (don’t worry, we will notify you if that’s the case).
Kas woke up, the sun shining directly on her eyes. The window in the room was right across from the bed the two shared.
She turned over, disappointed to see the other side of the bed was empty. Of course it made sense. The two got in a fight the other night.
To sum up, Ashlyn got mad at Kassi, due to the fact it was dark and stormy out and she went out looking for supplies. The two needed the food, considering they only had 12 cans left.
Kassi could see why it’d be a deal, but not a huge one. She got so angry, she just stormed into the bedroom. She didn’t want to continue the fight or do something she’d regret.
She sighed, realizing she’d eventually have to leave the room. She pulled the covers off her, then rising from the bed. She was then left in the over-sized t-shirt she slept it. The thing stopped at her mid thy but, it was damn comfortable.
She made her way to the living room, not seeing Ash anywhere. It’s possible she could be in another room.
Kassi stood in front of one the big windows, crossing her arms over her chest. She watched the rain heavily pour down the glass, and occasional lightning strike flashing down from the sky. Thankfully, it was farther away. Kas never liked thunderstorms, in fact, she was terrified of them. Normally, she’d have Ash come over when they were younger but, the girl could be anywhere by now.
Wanting to re-invent yourself is a dangerous thing” she told me “one minute you’re cutting all your hair off and chain smoking even though you always said you hated the smell, and the next you’ve forgotten who you were to begin with. You can’t remember how you used to act when you were happy, or what used to make you cry, or if you ever really cried. You’ll become so caught up on being the new you, you’ll lose sight of the one I fell in love with
To The person who asked for the best way on learn how to learn to do something like this, well, it all depends.
People learn different ways. Personally, I learned how to make Skylar by making Skylar. That’s really the main purpose of this project at the end of the day: For me to learn how to do it. She’s my first forray into the world of artificial intelligence, and most of what I’ve learned about AI is through all the trial and error I’ve done trying to get her online.
I’ll admit, this question is a bit tricky to answer beceause, Skylar’s not TOO difficult to make in the grand scheme of things. She can be made by one person in about a week around all the other things in life. At the same time, you absolutely have to know what you’re doing with coding.
If you’ve NEVER coded before, or are inexpierienced with your language of choosing, I’d look into http://www.codecademy.com/, it’s a free site that acts as an interactive tutorial on how to code through several different languages. I use Java, and Python’s a good alternative for beguinners.
Personally I’d say you should at least know what you’re doing in terms of File I/O before trying to make a full-fledged chatterbot.
And also my big personal tip is that Google is your friend. I’m serious, Google’s your friend. Never underestimate google because it is your miracle worker. Want to know how to do something? Google it. Have an error that keeps popping up? Google it. Want to know what a thing does? Google it. Want to skip reinventing the wheel and just use somebody else’s code? Google it. You can never Google something too many times.
Wirt was wondering through the forest searching for a lost soul in the middle of the night as usual. The last thing he had wanted to do was get out of bed at two in the morning when the lantern starting humming, which meant a new soul had entered the Unknown, but he had eventually dragged himself out of bed and here he was as he always was in the end.
“Sometimes I really, really hate my job,” he grumbled. Wirt stopped walking when he spotted a figure among the trees with an ease that came with over a hundred years of practice. “Hey, you lost?” He raised his voice enough to be heard but not too loud as to startle them. When they turned Wirt felt his blood run cold. Oh, this had to be a joke, he knew alternate dementions were a thing but this was just insane. “Uh…”
Could you illustrate it? BuzzFeed LGBT wants to see your artwork.
We’re looking for illustrations from people who live with or have experienced gender dysphoria. You know what your bad days feel like, but could you draw it? What would it look like? We want to see your drawings, illustrations, and sketches along with a short paragraph description of your piece. And don’t say you “can’t” draw — stick figures are acceptable.
Share your response with us via email at Sarah.Karlan@BuzzFeed.com for the chance to be featured in a post focusing on gender dysphoria for BuzzFeed’s Body Week!
In the event we use your response, please let us know if you would like us to publish it anonymously, credit your name, or include a link to your blog.
do you guys know the title of a TF2 short film that was animated in blender where the first scene was a BLU spy disguises as a red medic then got into hand to hand combat fight scene and when BLU Spy was about to lose he got assisted by a sniper who shoots the RED guy that got the upper hand on BLU Spy
then later on Spy infiltrates the RED base and discovers a shit ton of clones of the mercs and then gets shot by the RED engineer and the last clip was cut to an in game, first person footage of BLU Spy in the resupply room and said “I must be dreaming”
So I saw this post on my dash and madjm asked me for cursed!Emma dreaming a while ago and I dunno I just:
She doesn’t know who he is. In fact, in the dreams Emma’s not entirely sure who she is, because she doesn’t feel like the same person. She’s still Emma Swan but she feels different, she feels like she grew up different, somehow, she feels happy and home and there are people hovering in her head. They don’t even appear in the dream, they’re like memories of shadows but she knows that dream-Emma has a family. Dream-Emma has parents to hug her tight and love her, she’s got Henry of course, and so many other people as well - it’s hard to figure out who they are to her but somehow Emma knows she has them, even if they aren’t with her in the dream.
okay but imagine little sameen spending her sundays in the kitchen with her parents. she spends all of saturday thinking what she wants for sunday’s lunch. on sunday morning when they’re having breakfast, maman asks her what she wants to cook today and she has an entire list prepared. baba chuckles and tells her to choose 3 things from that list or else they’ll be cooking all the way until monday.
she follows maman to the sunday market to get the ingredients for lunch while baba cleans up and prepares the kitchen. they get back home and sameen gets her own stool so she can stand at the sink and help to wash the vegetables. someday you’ll be tall enough and you wont need the stool, maman tells her. sameen cant wait for that day to come.
baba puts a cassette into the radio and persian music plays while they cook. maman and baba both sing along. this was the song i listened to on the night your mother and me went out together for the first time, baba tells her. sameen listens carefully to the words. her farsi isn’t that good yet, but she’s learning.
she’s not allowed to use knives yet but baba shows her the safest way to hold a knife while cutting vegetables. how to angle the blade so that she can chop the garlic into fine, equal pieces. it’s simple physics. this is the fulcrum, the lever, and the force. sameen recalls the diagram he drew for her last week. she nods.
maman explains to her how to use each spice as she sprinkles them into the pot. if it’s too spicy, all you need to do is add a little bit of sugar or milk. everything has a purpose. she teaches her the names of the ingredients in farsi. sameen repeats each one after her and commits them to memory.
they sit around the dining table to eat, and little sameen enjoys every bit of food on her plate. she doesn’t notice baba secretly transferring meat from his plate to her’s. and she doesn’t notice him smiling at her fondly when she finds more meat tucked under the vegetables and immediately pops it into her mouth.
every single day in their household is filled with warmth and love, but sundays are special. sundays are always something that all three of them look forward to.
sometimes, when there aren’t any numbers to take care of, shaw flicks on a persian radio station and cooks a good meal for herself. she doesnt need a stool for the sink anymore, and her hands angle the blade the right way without her even thinking about it. she uses recipes and the dude at convenience store hasnt heard of half the spices she needs, but shaw hums in approval as she tastes the end product. maman and baba would be proud.