whispered words of wisdom

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untilyourlungscollapse: nedhepburn: This one time I painted a living room with a girl. This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that. But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more. Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail. That’s what love is. Attention to detail. And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes. But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time. She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones. But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more: One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile. And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end. Arguably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read on tumblr.

untilyourlungscollapse:

nedhepburn:

This one time I painted a living room with a girl.

This was a handful of years back. It was about eight months before the huge, flame-out of a breakup. That day, though? That day we painted the living room? It was pretty uneventful. We painted my parents living room for $50 between us and a pizza. That was it. I think we watched Anchorman or something after that.

But it still holds as on of the most indelible memories I have. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not still in love, it happened, it was good, it ended, and we’ve both moved on. But I’ll never forget that day. Because it’s never, in the long run, about the grand gestures. You can fly across the world and show up on her doorstep with a rose in your teeth and a ring in a little velvet box but I can guarantee you that - more often than not - she’s going to remember the time you built the birdhouse in the back yard, or what have you, a whole lot more.

Life wasn’t meant to be taken in large movements. The next day will inevitably arrive, you’ll sleep, and the moment will have passed. But when you have a hundred thousand small moments, you can step back and appreciate the picture a lot more than metaphorically blowing your load on some grand moment that, in all honesty, look, you’re not Bruce Fucking Springsteen, you’re not going to be able to blow everyone’s mind every single night. You’re not Romeo and/or Juliet. There’s no reason to drink the poison together in some flame-out gesture. So that leaves us with the small stuff. It’s all about the detail.

That’s what love is. Attention to detail.

And the moment will end. And then things will get boring. And it might get a little quiet. And it might all end horribly. And you might hate eachother at the end. And you might walk away from eachother one day and never speak again. But that’s just how it goes.

But she’ll remember the time you held the door open for her on your first date.
She’ll remember the time you laughed at her impression of the landlady.
She’ll remember the time you stayed up all night that first time.
She’ll remember the small things a lot longer than the big ones.

But everything ends. And I’ll tell you why you have to make the small things, the small moments count so much more:

One day, probably a while longer from now, when old age takes ahold of someone, she might just only remember your smile. Everything you ever did together, every second, every moment, every beat, every morning spent in bed, every evening spent together on the sofa, all of that - gone. Everything you ever did will be reduced to the head of a pin. She won’t remember your name. She’ll just remember your smile, and she’ll smile. She won’t know why. It’s a base, gut reaction. But she’ll smile, uncontrollably, and it will come from somewhere so deep as to know that you touched her on a primal, honest, and true level that no scientist, scholar, or savant could ever begin to explain. There is no more. There is nothing else. There is just this: She’ll remember your smile, and she’ll smile.

And you know what? That’s all that really matters in the end.

Arguably the most beautiful thing I’ve ever read on tumblr.

(via cranberries-juice)

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Ingrid Michaelson
Somebody That I Used To Know (Gotye Cover)

creatingaquietmind:

 Somebody That I Used To Know (Gotye cover) | Ingrid Michaelson

(Source: godspellandgoodnight)

231,152 notes

‎90% of people marry their 7th-12th grade love. Since you have read this, you will be told good news tonight. If you dont repost this, your worst week starts now

  1. ugh why did I read that???????????? Shit
  2. Why.
  3. Bring on the good news bitch.

ugh. I needa reblog this I’m sorry

i read it. fuck. BUT I’MA REBLOG CAUSE I’M ON KENDALL’SSSSSSSSSSSSSS.~
 

jc;lsakf;dlskjx

ugh sorry i need this

Wanna LAUGH OUT LOUD?! Follow this blog.

(Source: s-ophiee, via thatfunnyblog)

28,719 notes

He is disgusting.

somepolitics:

jpegartifacts:

nogods-nomasters-nopants:

TRIGGER WARNING: ABUSE AND ASSAULT

ambivalent-masque:

thegreg:

derbygirl:

triumphofintellectandromance:

thegoatjustatethemoney:

undergr0undkingz:

tyleroakley:

Before you defend Chris Brown, let alone support him, read the police report of what happened between him and Rihanna in 2009.

Damn.

i am fucking speechless.

THIS is why we should not support this man. (And, for the record, Rolling Stone, it’s not funny that Chris Brown makes light of his DV charge when hitting on women.)

This is why I won’t ignore Chris Brown when people continue to fawn over him, and when he’s said what he did “wasn’t a big deal.”

It was a big. fucking. deal.

Chris Brown is a piece of shit of monumental proportions and he should have to apologize for this every day for the rest of his life. The fact that the fucking scumbag somehow feels victimized by this is abhorrent.

Fuck him and fuck anyone who defends him.

jesus fucking christ.

maaajor TW for abuse.

Holy fucking shit. I knew it was bad, but not this bad. What a piece of shit.

And people think this guy deserves a grammy.

(via vivalacheapthrills)

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What can you do when your good isn’t good enough?
When all that you touch tumbles down?
Cuz my best intentions keep making a mess of things..

How many times will it take for me to get it right?

3,234 notes

dee-cem-ber-8th: He got blown up saving me. He risked his life for me. Please reblog and pray for Eric. He’s got 1st, 2nd and 3rd degree burns. Please spread this so he knows he’s being prayed for. It would mean the world to him, I’m sitting across from him in the hospital right now as he is suffering so badly from them he stopped breathing and could have brain damage. PLEASE please please reblog and pray for him. ♥

dee-cem-ber-8th:

He got blown up saving me. He risked his life for me. Please reblog and pray for Eric. He’s got 1st, 2nd and 3rd degree burns. Please spread this so he knows he’s being prayed for. It would mean the world to him, I’m sitting across from him in the hospital right now as he is suffering so badly from them he stopped breathing and could have brain damage. PLEASE please please reblog and pray for him. ♥

(Source: de-cem-ber-8th, via lovemetoinfinity)