chinuejohn

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L'arte sotto ogni sua forma, io li trovo semplicemente fantastici.

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DONT!!!! dress up as a serial killer this halloween!!!!! it is appropriating white culture!!!

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you were red and you liked me cause I was blue you touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky and you decided purple just wasn’t for you

Halsey (via misjudgments)

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Mireya / @bellejesuis by @MrCheyl

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More people are concerned with why women stay in abusive relationships than why men are abusing women

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How it Probably Happened

Bob the animator: “Ok, so, there’s gonna be a broken piece of a sign that says ‘KL’ on it. Can you draw that?”

Frank the animator: “Yeah, sure, how’s this look?”

Bob the animator: “Well, if it was ACTUALLY a broken piece of a sign that says ‘Klondike,’ it wouldn’t have a big gap after the letters, but whatever. We can fix it in the closeup.”

Frank the animator: “Uh… ok. Shouldn’t I change it in the first shot?”

Bob the animator: “Nah, leave it, but give the new one some wood texture, and make it smaller… oh, and change the lengths of the spikes. The kids won’t notice.”

Frank the animator: “More like this?”

Bob the animator: “Yeah, yeah! And for the final scene, make it REALLY big, and remove the texture, and… heck, make it two spikes instead of three. Two is better.”

Frank the animator: “Alright, it’s done. Are you sure no one will ever notice all these haphazard, illogical changes?”

Bob the animator: “Yeah! I mean, what, do you think someone’s gonna take photos and put them on a blog with 3,500 followers some day? That would be ridiculous.”

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*stays alive just in case things get better*

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We have had a great month and here is our top 5 posts of January!

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It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays. It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do.

It’s not that I don’t love you.  (via extrasad)

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Straight outta November ..hello December #straightoutta #hellodecember2015