No eran las ideas las que salvaban al mundo, no era el intelecto ni la razón, sino todo lo contrario: aquellas insensatas esperanzas de los hombres, su furia persistente para sobrevivir, su anhelo de respirar mientras sea posible, su pequeño, testarudo y grotesco heroísmo de todos los días frente al infortunio.
—  “Sobre héroes y tumbas” - Ernesto Sabato. 

Alrighty. I need your help. I thank you in advance :)

I cleaned out my art drawers and found an ungodly amount of old-as-hell sketches, drawings and stuff from the past, oh… forever.

I feel bad tossing them so I may put them up for sale.

I’m thinking of selling most for $1/each with some others with color or shading for $2/each. Many are pencil, some are marker or pen. Some others are pencil or ink over a Xerox from my older sketchbooks. It’s a bunch of different stuff– original characters, fan art, comp sketches for colored/finished pieces. So much weird stuff. All sorts of different sizes from scraps of paper to printer paper and such. If it’s not already signed and you want it signed, I’ll do that :)

What I don’t know how to approach is shipping. I’m thinking of doing a flat rate of $5 for packing and shipping, so if you buy 1 or 20, it’s covered for that $5. I have STACKS of these to sell so does this sound like a decent idea?


In our society, ideas function as capital in much the same way money does. Individuals who can get others to “buy in” to their ideas obtain a disproportionate amount of control over their surroundings; large conglomerates… can come to rule large parts of the world this way, just as corporations do — indeed, there can be no entrenched political or financial power without ideological capital to back it up. Little “start-up companies” of competing ideas can enter the market to contest such monopolies, and sometimes one unseats the reigning creed to become the new dominant paradigm; but as in any capitalist system, power tends to flow upward to the top of a hierarchy, from which the masters, the ones qualified to employ it, decide matters for everyone else … and, just as in financial capitalism, ultimately it is not even the ruling class but competition itself that is in control. In this environment, anyone with a value or viewpoint has to rush to sell it to others before being run out of business.

It’s hard to imagine from here what a world free from this war of ideologies would be like. Obviously, it would have to be a world free from analogous wars (for money, power, selfhood), too, for it’s foolish to insist that “one can think however one wants” when some ways of conceptualizing the cosmos are punished by exclusion or embargo. Those of us who fight for freedom from the power of gods and masters would do well to contest the dictatorships of ideology — any ideology — which always accompany and enable them.


Why We’re Right & You’re Wrong:Towards a Non-D(en)ominational Revolution | CrimethInc

This is exactly why “discussions” via social media so rapidly turn hostile rather than create space for dialogue.  

but what if gems had scattered gems based on markings?

like I know theres the thing going around that said that your gem on your gemsona can be where you have a birthmark in real life, but what about gems that erupt from skin the way raw unrefined gemstones do in scattered patterns?

like I have mild round psoriasis patches on both of my elbows, and then scattered patches around mid-stomach and the sides of my lower ribcage. What if my gemsona had scattered stones all over those areas, where the skin either splits to reveal gems or they erupt in a more unrefined way? What about a regular refined gem and tons of smaller, unrefined versions of that gem?

can this be a thing because I’d be down for scattered erupting gems.


A/N: Just wanted to write this as a futuristic sort of thing to make it less awkward to write about Liam/Dylan. Hope you enjoy! ((FROM HIS PERSPECTIVE BTW))


Multiple thoughts clouded my mind as I approached doorstep of her dorm. I was nervous, but anxious. I hadn’t seen her since that one stormy day in May, just a few days after graduation. Her hair was lighter than normal, with a tint of red at the tips. But who knew what she looked liked now? It had been 2 years since I saw her last. I hadn’t Skyped her or texted her. I wasn’t going too. I didn’t want to annoy her or become a pest. But oddly enough, here I am looking like an outcast standing outside the door with a bouquet of roses, and a gift bag. But more than anything, I just wanted to hug her and inhale her wondrous scent. She always smelled good and I missed the scent of vanilla and chamomile on her skin.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I nervously chewed on my lip and waited for the door to open. From the other side of the door, I could hear a faint “Who’s there?”

I mumbled, “Liam.” I could still hear the locks on the door being messed with and small talk being made.

“Liam? Um, okay. Be right there.”

She sounded unsure. and confused. Best way to catch her. Finally the door creaked open. She stepped out, hands over her mouth. She was still beautiful, just as I last saw her. Hair was darker and casual as always.

“Oh my god, Liam!” She squealed, opening her arms to me. “I didn’t expect this? What are you doing here??”
I tilted my head and blushed.

“Well, I miss you lots. And I figured I visit you while I was in the area.” I replied honestly, and she smiled. That smile was radiant. The sun couldn’t compare. I handed her the flowers and the bag, before shoving my hands in my pocket.

“You shouldn’t have.” She softly smiled with a modest response.

“But I wanted too, and you deserve it.” I replied.

She smelled the roses, and giggled.

“Come on in, my roommate isn’t here at the moment. She would probably flip her shit if she knew you were here.”
I laughed, and took a seat on her bed.
“What have you told her about me?” I questioned.

“Just some things. I’ve showed her pictures too. You’re such an attractive kid, but she’s 22 and needs to find someone her age.” She stammered, while putting the roses in a vase.

“I’m still attractive to you, huh?” I slyly asked, lying back on the pillows.

“Yeah, you are obviously. Why?”

“Oh nothing.” I hummed, and just glared at her.

She turned around and looked at me with confused eyes.

“You still won’t let this go. We can’t be what you want us to be Liam. There’s no way people will accept that.” Her tone cracked. She was on the brink of tears it seemed, and I instantly felt terrible. I don’t want her to feel this way. But I know for a fact that with me, things would be different. But how do I prove it? Just how?

“Y/N, I don’t think you understand. I don’t care what people think of us. Or of it. I really really want you to be mine. I want us to be together. I want you happy and I want to love you like no other. Just let me, please? Age is a number, under certain circumstances. You know that. And for us, it’s totally legal. I’m 18 and I know what I want. I want you. I really want you.” I rambled, exaggerating how much I could possibly want her. How much I needed her.

Her gaze fell, and she sat on the edge of the bed. The strap of her top slid off her shoulder and I had a thought.

“I don’t want to be humiliated again. Or made fun of.” She softly sobbed, as I crawled behind her. I pressed my lips to her soft skin of her shoulder and caressed her arms.

“I would never let that happen.” I whispered into her skin, placing more kisses along the back of her neck and to the other shoulder. “Not ever.” I added.
She sighed loudly.

“I know what would make you feel better, but I need to know one thing.”

“What’s that?” She asked.

“What time does your roommate get back?” I questioned, my hands massaging her shoulders and neck.

“Probably after 10, why?”

She sounded curious, and I wasn’t going to say a word.

“Just enough time to do what I’ve been so anxious to do since the day I turned 18.” I chuckled, smirking against her neck. Soft hums escaped her lips.

“No Liam, you can’t…” She softly spoke and I ignored her. My hands tugged at the hem of her shirt that read FANCY. My fingers traveled under her shirt and drew shapes onto her sides. My lips connected with the bend of her neck, slightly nibbling at a few spots. “Liam please…”

“I’ve waited for too long Y/N. Too damn long.”

She let her head fall back on my shoulder, eyes closed. Her hands gripped my knees and her thumbs rubbed circles on the fabric. Kissing her cheek, her eyes slowly opened. Beautiful and big.

“Let me, please?” I whispered, finally pressing my lips to hers. Soft, sweet, and tasted like mint. She closed her eyes again and hummed.

“Bring it Dunbar.” She giggled, pulling my face to hers for another kiss.


Does this make me a bad person??

Domain Hunter

How many of you still remember when Facebook is thefacebook? If you are one of their early user (unfortunately that’s not what I am), you should remember to type at your address bar before you can post wall, photo and whatever Facebook activities that you plan to do. Even until today typing will bring you to Facebook homepage. 

Why Mark Zuckerberg do not use from the beginning?

Blame it to domain hunter if you want to know (but maybe I am not totally right as well, it could be someone with genuine intention for using that domain name). But most of the time, a startup can’t use their intended name because of these people called domain hunter. Domain hunter buy all those domain name with a catchy name, especially the dot com one, with an intention that one day a startup will go big and in the end need to buy the name from them. So a domain that usually cost about $10 - $50 per year, can be sold by them at a very inflated price of maybe $1,000 or even millions depending the financial capability and how desperate that startup with that domain name ( a record was, that was sold for $35.6 million). 

scifi novel where humans are way more technologically advanced, but the new inventions are as buggy and unglamorous as early computers were. attempts to integrate gps software with flying cars has utterly failed so far, people post screenshots of “recalculating” decisions gone very, very wrong … around-the-world wrong. tech from Snazzy Future Company can translate any language into one’s native one, but even though it’s better than google translate is now, hideous translation errors are still made. the floating hotel that tours the pacific is notorious for running out of toilet paper, because the administration hasn’t yet managed to stock their supply quite right (conversely, there is always way too much ketchup).