igotpringles:

micdotcom:

Potent minimalist art sends a strong message about police and vigilante brutality in America

Journalist and artist Shirin Barghi has created a gripping, thought-provoking series of graphics that not only examines racial prejudice in today’s America, but also captures the sense of humanity that often gets lost in news coverage. Titled “Last Words,” the graphics illustrate the last recorded words by Brown and other young black people — Trayvon Martin, Oscar Grant and others — who have been killed by police in recent years.

Let us not forget their voices

This makes me way to sad

(via a-dustland-phanfiction)

Sherlock + Khan = Shere-Kahn

‪#‎IseeWhatYouDidThere‬

"The urn of language is so fragile. It crumbles and immediately you blow into the dust of words which are the cinder itself. And if you entrust it to paper, it is all the better to inflame you with, my dear, you will eat yourself up immediately."

— Jacques Derrida, Cinders (via wordsnquotes)

(via howitzerliterarysociety)

vosvossevdasi:

#vosvossevdasi #volkswagenim #vosvos

vosvossevdasi:

#vosvossevdasi #volkswagenim #vosvos

"A story untold could be the one that kills you."

— Pat Conroy (via feellng)

RIP, Anne

inspiration-hazza-run-dry:

Tonight we sadly have to announce that nipschapelcheshire, formally known as Anne, has committed suicide. I do not know much about her, all I know is there was an alert post that went out about how she was planning her suicide tonight, and I was too late. We were all too late. Even if you did not know Anne, please reblog this to let everyone know that we’ve lost a beautiful addition to the tumblr family. RIP, Anne. You will be missed.

(Source: josiefiiine, via wutscraicalackin)

"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."

— Oscar Wilde (via labyrinthofsolitude)

(via shesaidclud)

(Source: memewhore, via pizza)

(Source: memewhore, via pizza)

postracialcomments:

THINK REAL HARD ON THIS
LET THIS SINK IN

postracialcomments:

THINK REAL HARD ON THIS

LET THIS SINK IN

(via extraneousaccessories)

fuckyeahbehindthescenes:

According to Roger Moore’s autobiography he witnessed Christopher Reeve walking through the canteen at Pinewood Studios in full Superman costume oblivious to the swooning female admirers he left in his wake. When he did the same thing dressed as Clark Kent no one paid any attention.
Superman (1978)

fuckyeahbehindthescenes:

According to Roger Moore’s autobiography he witnessed Christopher Reeve walking through the canteen at Pinewood Studios in full Superman costume oblivious to the swooning female admirers he left in his wake. When he did the same thing dressed as Clark Kent no one paid any attention.

Superman (1978)

(via thesonicscrew)

(Source: lilbunny2812)

no-youth:

Almost a thousand people in West Africa die from ebola and nobody bats an eyelash, yet 2 white people in the US contract it and miraculously a cure is released and given to them because they’re an “extreme circumstance.” Satire is dead and real life is a dystopian hellscape

A common opinion among at least one affected community in Africa, is that there is no Ebola. A facility established for the sole purpose of treating the spread of the disease was torn apart and vandalized by a mob just two days after it opened. Quarantined patients were exposed to healthy individuals, and even encouraged by the mob to leave. The doctors in that community were left without the equipment to safely handle patients. 
Aside from this bundle of news, the patients that returned were given an experimental drug, that happened to work, and if it can be recreated effectively, should be administered to all people in need. 

Could a cure have been found earlier? Maybe, but then again maybe not.

(via tomato-desu)

Tags: ebola live news

Your Gravity

We were separate planets, you and I, in our plastic bubble worlds,
So when I saw you enter my orbit for the first time, 
I assumed you were Jupiter.

I never once believed we were the same, or meant to collide,
Just that from the moment we saw each other you had an immeasurable pull on me, predestined in a way that can only be described as sovereign. 
We were meant to be, but only like this, never closer.

But you got closer, and the closer you came,
The clearer I saw that you were not a Jupiter, not like me at all,
You were an Asteroid. 

The pull between us, if unchecked, would leave me scarred,
But it would destroy you.

So I kept watching, and I saw,
In a moment, you turned,
And so did I, 

And in that moment, I saw the truth:
You weren’t revolving around me, 
But I around you, 
As smaller things often do.

I was no threat to you, it was quite the opposite,

We are not meant to be, 
But now I can’t seem to leave,
Your gravity.