1Q84, Haruki Murakami, pg 294    (via yv-nne)

(Source: oneqeightyfour, via yv-nne)

The thing I’m most afraid of is me. Of not knowing what I’m going to do. Of not knowing what I’m doing right now.
Notes
94851
Posted
2 days ago

rinasee:

If you ever want to explain Hetalia it’s this.

Notes
249
Posted
2 days ago
wolfenstain:

A German soldier in front of the Reichstag, who accepts the defeat. Berlin, 1945.

wolfenstain:

A German soldier in front of the Reichstag, who accepts the defeat. Berlin, 1945.

Notes
279
Posted
4 days ago
historicaltimes:

World War 1 - Christmas Day truce football match played in no-man’s land. Germany won 3-2.

historicaltimes:

World War 1 - Christmas Day truce football match played in no-man’s land. Germany won 3-2.

Notes
456
Posted
4 days ago
Me:*out for dinner with my dad because we were too lazy to cook*
Random Old Lady:*comes up out of no where with the most judgmental look ever* (will also be refereed to as 'ROL')
ROL:Isn't he a little old for you?
Me:Well, considering he's my Dad, I'd say that your a judgmental hag.
Dad:*chokes into his drink*
ROL:You should respect your elders.
Me:You should respect your youth, we're the ones who'll decide on whether or not to pull your cord in like, what? Five weeks?
Dad:*chokes on his drink again*
ROL:*storms off*
Dad:*looks at me with a disapproving look*
Me:What?
Dad:Come on, you and I both know it will be three weeks.
Notes
53509
Posted
4 days ago

thr-ill:

have no regrets

except all those facebook pages you liked back in 2009, regret those

(via susannasus1)

Notes
304501
Posted
1 week ago
frustrated-fallen-angel:

harryis-acupcake:

niick4:

danger-mouz:

calirosegold:

patronustrip:

tootsienoodles:

freackthehopeful:

skylarghost:

weasleyrocksyoursocks:

seong:

I AM FUCKING SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS SERIOUSLY THE BEST THING EVER
SWEET JESUS

You have your mother’s cheek bones

godDAMMIT NOW WE’RE SHIPPING CUTLERY
TUMBLR YOU NEED TO S T O P

I hope this post comes back to me when it has a short story attached. 

The Utensils were a happy family, just like any other. Fork was a loving, caring father, who worked at a bank, and Spoon was his beautiful wife, who owned a small business that allowed her to spend a lot of time with their son, Spork. Every day, when Fork came home from work, he gently clinked against the rim of Spoon’s face and asked how her day had been. She would go on and on about how her Aunt Bowl was letting anyone fill her up these days, and telling him he would never guess who they got a phone call from today (it was his brother, Knife), and he would just lean back against the china cabinet, staring at his wife’s beautiful reflective surface, and know everything was right in the world. 
One day, however, everything was suddenly not right in the world at all.
Fork woke up in the silverware drawer and instantly knew something was wrong. He looked over to where Spoon normally slept, confused when he saw nothing but empty space. Or, at least, he thought it was empty. It took him a minute to see the small note left there. Oh no. God, no, he thought.
He picked up the note with shaking prongs, and read amid tears:
“Fork,
     I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I just couldn’t face seeing you. It’s too painful. I’m not strong enough to tell you this to your face, and I know that makes me a coward. I know that makes me a horrible utensil. But I can’t do this anymore.
     Do you remember Cow’s party the other night? The night she was so drunk she swore she jumped over the moon? Well, I met someone that night. His name is Dish. And we’re running away together.
     Please, don’t try and find us. Dish makes me happy. He doesn’t spend all day staring at me, looking at himself in my reflection. 
Goodbye, Fork.
-Spoon”
Fork collapsed to the ground, wishing he could tell Spoon that the reason he loved staring at her reflective surface so much, was because of the way her surface magnified everything around her, making it seem so much greater and more beautiful than people could see themselves as normally. Her personality did the same thing. It’s what he loved most about her. And what he would miss most of all.

I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS FUCKING SITE.


bra..fucking..vo

sweet jesus i’m crying over cutlery

things like this make me happy i have a tumblr

i’M CRYING… BECAUSE CUTLERY. 
This website is going to be the death of me.

Crack. Not even once.

frustrated-fallen-angel:

harryis-acupcake:

niick4:

danger-mouz:

calirosegold:

patronustrip:

tootsienoodles:

freackthehopeful:

skylarghost:

weasleyrocksyoursocks:

seong:

I AM FUCKING SCREAMING BECAUSE THIS IS SERIOUSLY THE BEST THING EVER

SWEET JESUS

You have your mother’s cheek bones

godDAMMIT NOW WE’RE SHIPPING CUTLERY

TUMBLR YOU NEED TO S T O P

I hope this post comes back to me when it has a short story attached. 

The Utensils were a happy family, just like any other. Fork was a loving, caring father, who worked at a bank, and Spoon was his beautiful wife, who owned a small business that allowed her to spend a lot of time with their son, Spork. Every day, when Fork came home from work, he gently clinked against the rim of Spoon’s face and asked how her day had been. She would go on and on about how her Aunt Bowl was letting anyone fill her up these days, and telling him he would never guess who they got a phone call from today (it was his brother, Knife), and he would just lean back against the china cabinet, staring at his wife’s beautiful reflective surface, and know everything was right in the world. 

One day, however, everything was suddenly not right in the world at all.

Fork woke up in the silverware drawer and instantly knew something was wrong. He looked over to where Spoon normally slept, confused when he saw nothing but empty space. Or, at least, he thought it was empty. It took him a minute to see the small note left there. Oh no. God, no, he thought.

He picked up the note with shaking prongs, and read amid tears:

“Fork,

     I’m sorry to leave you like this, but I just couldn’t face seeing you. It’s too painful. I’m not strong enough to tell you this to your face, and I know that makes me a coward. I know that makes me a horrible utensil. But I can’t do this anymore.

     Do you remember Cow’s party the other night? The night she was so drunk she swore she jumped over the moon? Well, I met someone that night. His name is Dish. And we’re running away together.

     Please, don’t try and find us. Dish makes me happy. He doesn’t spend all day staring at me, looking at himself in my reflection. 

Goodbye, Fork.

-Spoon”


Fork collapsed to the ground, wishing he could tell Spoon that the reason he loved staring at her reflective surface so much, was because of the way her surface magnified everything around her, making it seem so much greater and more beautiful than people could see themselves as normally. Her personality did the same thing. It’s what he loved most about her. And what he would miss most of all.

I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS FUCKING SITE.

image

bra..fucking..vo

sweet jesus i’m crying over cutlery

things like this make me happy i have a tumblr

i’M CRYING… BECAUSE CUTLERY. 

This website is going to be the death of me.

Crack. Not even once.

(Source: soy-un-vampido, via thefreakoutsideyourwindow)

Notes
451006
Posted
1 week ago

4chanofficial:

i find bad jokes funnier than funny jokes

(Source: molgera, via thefreakoutsideyourwindow)

Notes
560896
Posted
1 week ago
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