e-qu-animity

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sexintartarus:

excuse you our porn is of the finest quality

smartaleckette:

February 13, 2013 - the day Canada’s Parliament debated the zombie apocalypse. (x)

this is very important

(via timemakesnomistakes)

58,913 notes | 5 hours ago

fricksatmywindow:

my parents don’t realize that i am perfectly happy avoiding humanity

(Source: gaydayparade, via dontblinkamelia)

93,434 notes | 7 hours ago

doctorwho:

idiscoverediminlovewithyou:

oneasspluscas:

possessed-pie:

great-gallifrey:

spent a day with david tennant today

Oh my God the the third one

GOBLET OF FIRE

this is the best ever

(via a-small-british-whovian)

23,774 notes | 7 hours ago

184208

umistakemeforstraight:

fearfullittleloverr:

A psychologist walked around a room while teaching stress management to an audience. As she raised a glass of water, everyone expected they’d be asked the “half empty or half full” question. Instead, with a smile on her face, she inquired: “How heavy is this glass of water?”Answers called out ranged from 8 oz. to 20 oz.She replied, “The absolute weight doesn’t matter. It depends on how long I hold it. If I hold it for a minute, it’s not a problem. If I hold it for an hour, I’ll have an ache in my arm. If I hold it for a day, my arm will feel numb and paralyzed. In each case, the weight of the glass doesn’t change, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes.” She continued, “The stresses and worries in life are like that glass of water. Think about them for a while and nothing happens. Think about them a bit longer and they begin to hurt. And if you think about them all day long, you will feel paralyzed – incapable of doing anything.”It’s important to remember to let go of your stresses. As early in the evening as you can, put all your burdens down. Don’t carry them through the evening and into the night. Remember to put the glass down!

I think this just changed my life.

47054

baabyv:

anewstartt:

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet. Cranky Old ManWhat do you see nurses? What do you see?What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?A cranky old man, not very wise,Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.When you say in a loud voice, ‘I do wish you’d try!’Who seems not to notice the things that you do.And forever is losing a sock or shoe?Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see?Then open your eyes, nurse. You’re not looking at me.I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,Brothers and sisters who love one anotherA young boy of sixteen with wings on his feetDreaming that soon now a lover he’ll meet.A groom soon at twenty my heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.At twenty-five, now I have young of my own.Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,Bound to each other with ties that should last.At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.At fifty, once more, babies play ‘round my knee,Again, we know children, my loved one and me.Dark days are upon me. My wife is now dead.I look at the future. I shudder with dread.For my young are all rearing young of their own.And I think of the years, and the love that I’ve known.I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.The body, it crumbles. Grace and vigour, depart.There is now a stone where I once had a heart.But inside this old carcass, A young man still dwells,And now and again my battered heart swells.I remember the joys, I remember the pain.And I’m loving and living life over again.I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast.And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.So open your eyes, people. Open and see.Not a cranky old man.Look closer .. See.. Me. Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all one day be there too!

:’(

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wishcave:

*opens jacket* hey u wanna buy some oh jesus fuck it’s cold *closes jacket*

(via jaybirdtodds)

32,094 notes | 10 hours ago

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