Jax Teller needs to take a bubble bath surrounded by scented candles while softly playing the soundtrack of Waiting to Exhale in the background. He should have a mud mask on that promises to take years off your skin while he keeps his feet out of the water so that those things that separate his toes don’t get wet or his freshly polished toenails. He should blink back the tears to ensure that he doesn’t mess up his mud mask and remind himself to check Oprah quotes when he gets out of the tub then watch Bambi and cry himself to sleep. #sensativethugsneedhugs
Love this! #DowntonAbbey
- Isobel: Oh, how you hate to be wrong!
- Violet: I wouldn't know. I'm not familiar with the sensation.
Rocky called. He wants his face back.
tokyogenso produces digital illustrations of a post-apocalyptic Tokyo, devoid of human life, deteriorating slowly at the hands of nature.
Post-apocalyptic times are what I yearn for daily
Kanye West - Runaway (Extended Video Version) ft. Pusha T
don’t know what’s so funny about this picture? I have thousands of these of myself from myself.
"Black people can’t talk to white people about race anymore. There’s really nothing left to say. There are libraries full of books, interviews, essays, lectures, and symposia. If people want to learn about their own country and its history, it is not incumbent on black people to talk to them about it. It is not our responsibility to educate them about it. Plus whenever white people want to talk about race, they never want to talk about themselves. There needs to be discussion among people who think of themselves as white. They need to unpack that language, that history, that social position and see what it really offers them, and what it takes away from them. As James Baldwin said, “As long as you think that you are white, there is no hope for you."
The Loneliest Whale in the World.
In 2004, The New York Times wrote an article about the loneliest whale in the world. Scientists have been tracking her since 1992 and they discovered the problem:
She isn’t like any other baleen whale. Unlike all other whales, she doesn’t have friends. She doesn’t have a family. She doesn’t belong to any tribe, pack or gang. She doesn’t have a lover. She never had one. Her songs come in groups of two to six calls, lasting for five to six seconds each. But her voice is unlike any other baleen whale. It is unique—while the rest of her kind communicate between 12 and 25hz, she sings at 52hz. You see, that’s precisely the problem. No other whales can hear her. Every one of her desperate calls to communicate remains unanswered. Each cry ignored. And, with every lonely song, she becomes sadder and more frustrated, her notes going deeper in despair as the years go by.