lmao me neither


Our Q&A - lyrics

There are no pens in your toolbox—not because you don’t need them, but because you don’t need to actively obtain them. In a world where every commodity is carefully tracked and distributed, pens are the exception, floating freely in unoccupied space. You may have a pen with you right now, but if you don’t, you could certainly find one in a couple of minutes, and no one would mind if you took it.

No other product is like this: You don’t drive your car, drop it off somewhere, and grab the next one you see lying around. Pens are rarely used start to finish by the same person. When was the last time you bought a pen, used it for a long time, and saw it through to the end of its ink supply? Or bought an actual replacement ballpoint cartridge? Never.

Look at the pen nearest you right now. Do you even know where it came from? Is it imprinted with the logo of a company you’ve never heard of?

We spend our lives drifting through an ephemeral sea of pens, using them and letting them go, like spent I overs—finding, lending, misplacing, replacing, discovering, dismantling, piling the components on our desks and playing with that little spring. If there is any evidence for creationism, it can be found in pens: They exist all around us, but no one knows from whence they came. We know only that they are good, they are here to serve us, and some people can spin them around their thumb.

-Surviving Your Stupid, Stupid Decision to Go To Grad School, Adam Ruben


It’s hard. Whatever career you choose to follow is and will be hard. So, what is your gasoline? What is it that will make you bear through the most difficult, darkest moments that you’ll encounter? What is, as a lawyer in the show “How to Get Away with Murder” would say, your motive? I don’t judge, if your motive is to become a millionaire, if it’s becoming famous, getting your ex to regret breaking up with you, it’s okay. The only thing I will say is that motive must be so attached to your being, so impregnated to your skin, that no matter the storm, the rejection, the criticism you receive, that motive has to make you get up and keep giving. “Karla, I’m sorry, we’re looking for someone more famous for this role.” Get up, Karla, come on, keep going. “Karla, we’re looking for someone less famous for this role.” “More latina, less latina, skinnier, less thin.” Come on, Karla, keep going, continue. The amount of rejections and criticism I receive daily vary from comments from producers like these to comments on Twitter like: “No, because I don’t like your acting.” Or: “You’re beautiful, but cross-eyed.” “Chicken legs.” Or comments from family and friends: “Karla, why are you going to Hollywood? You are crazy, think it through. You’ll never make it.” […] Success is the ability to go from failure to failure with enthusiasm, as well said by Churchill. And I believe that a great motive can help you do that. However, my motive has not always been the same. It’s changed, drastically, it’s been eight years. I was at the end of my first year in the three years of my acting career in London and one day, without reason I lose my speech. For three months. I can’t speak, for three months, I can’t formulate one miserable sentence. Not even the doctors, not even the electroencephalograms could tell me what had actually happened. What I can say is that it got to a point of so much frustration, so much desperation that I came to want to end my life. In this moment I look inside myself for the strength I believe to have, search for help from my family, friends, my faith in God and I don’t find anything. There is no cure, no exit. My motive, my gasoline quickly starts to fade and runs outs. The hell I find myself in, however, becomes a little bit less heavy when I start to see my pain, the same kind of pain, reflected in other people’s works of art. In plays, in the movies, in the paintings. Little by little, I start to see my pain and read it in the poems. The words of the poets and the characters begin to fill up my silence. It became the only form in which what I felt and my emotions could be expressed. I connect with the constant questioning of Jack Kerouac’s life and books; I see Frida Kahlo’s paintings and for the first time I can feel the suffering and solitude of her self-portraits. Art turns into something alive. During these three months of silence, pressure and distress, I fall in love, inexplicably, fully and completely with art. The suffering came to me like a nail to the heart from God. And it saddens me knowing that there are people that don’t believe that art is worthy of our attention and of our funding. Because for me, it’s not only a passion, it is what saved my life, what kept me alive.  — Karla Souza on TEDx Talk.

Being a ambivert be like
  • Me: *wakes up in good mood* Ah! Let's be social and show my friends how much a care and appreciate them!
  • Me next day: * wakes up in an equally good mood as day before* Ah! Who needs people? Today I'm gonna focus on myself and not deal with social interaction! Treat yo self!
  • Me reflecting on personality: ...why am I like this?
biggest pet peeves people do when describing breasts:
  • “mounds” “fun-bags” “Gallons” “milk jugs” “your own weird ass word here” 
  • telling exact cupsize??  
  • “pebbled peaks” 
  • calling nipples nubs in any way, shape, or form
  • a girl somehow reaching orgasm just bc someone touched her nipple??? what
  • “valley between her breasts” (this is just cliche at this point tbh)  
  • Basically comparing breasts to mountains tbh 

anonymous asked:

hey so i can't stop thinking about wickedthing!Anakin meeting canon!Anakin and that ensuing mess of a conversation: "so... have you ever... had sex with a Sith Lord?" "No of course not!" "HAHAHA YEAH ME NEITHER LMAO THAT WOULD BE A FUCKING TERRIBLE IDEA SO GLAD WE'RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE"


but just imaginE WICKED THING ANAKIN’S FACE WHEN HE FOUND OUT WHO CANON ANAKIN’S MASTER IS OH GOD “…yeah, and then my master, obi wan kenobi–” “your– did you just– kenobi is your mASTER???? ?? ? oh hell fuckENING NO”

keepthefrank  asked:

Early Sunsets, Party Poison, and Look Alive ? also get well soon bud!!

“ oooh and teenagers (sorry i don’t have chill)”

 lmao it’s cool, me neither

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville: What’s your favorite horror movie?

i have actually not been very exposed to horror movies bc i’m p young and my parents hate horror movies :o

Party Poison: Do you speak different languages?

i know a bit of spanish?

Look Alive, Sunshine: What time do you wake up? 

on school days i wake up at 5:30 bc i get to school like an hour before school actually starts

Teenagers: Are you scared of people your own age?

i have anxiety, im scared of everyone. so yes


send me mcr asks!!