stupidfuckingquestions:

Michael Bublé promoting his new album

(via josephledger-)

shiphassailed:

when your internet isnt really working well and your whole dash is just blank squares and you still scroll through it attentively

(Source: graceebooks, via josephledger-)

killing must feel good to god, too. he does it all the time. are we not created in his image?

(Source: stilestilinskis, via knighterrants)

foreveryonetosee:

exitmusicforafilmm:

crypticrose:

c-aramelize:

bur-gund-y:

c-aramelize:

living-afairytale:

c-aramelize:

so oxygen went on a date with potassium today…it went ok.

i thought oxygen was dating magnesium…omg

actually oxygen first asked nitrogen out, but nitrogen was all like “NO”

I thought oxygen had that double bond with the hydrogen twins

looks like someone’s a HO

NaBrO

i’m done with all of you

I fucking love this sight oh my god

(via imeriklehnsherr)

spelledjustlikeescape:

i’m breathing in

the chemicals

(via imeriklehnsherr)

(Source: gracelesscas, via imeriklehnsherr)

bennyslegs:

you on facebook

you on tumblr

(Source: theletterstomyfriend, via selfmadesuperhero)

(Source: balphesian, via bertoluccis)

#you know nothing jon snow

(Source: robbstark, via pinenutss)

mataring:

i hope the light at the end of the tunnel is a computer screen

(Source: zachsgay, via xxkenziex)

“One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever. One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands out and throws one's head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun--which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years. One knows it then for a moment or so. And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries. Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with the millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in someone's eyes.”

Ask

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