“i can be quite sarcastic when i'm in the mood.”

student / bookworm / professional tv-watcher / champion tea-drinker / fangirl extrodinaire.


First day at school, Gaza, Palestine.

this is the most important thing right now.


Emma Watson represents the UN, in her role as UN Women Goodwill Ambassador, in Uruguay where she was campaigning for a higher representation of women in politics.


You’re born with a ton of fucks to give, so you spend them like a kid with a credit card. You give fucks about your friends, about your grades, about your fashion sense, about strangers’ opinions. You give way too many fucks about way too many things. You have so many. Then, as you get older, you have maybe 10 fucks per month, so you learn to budget them. You allocate fucks to family and career, but there aren’t enough fucks to give to the newest fads. Oh, someone at work has something they need my help with that’s outside my job title? I’ll do my best to allocate some fucks, but this month is pretty tight. Then, as you get even older, you’re down to 1-2 fucks per month, and those fucks are pretty damn precious. You give them to your family and your hobbies and your job, and that’s kinda it. It’s not your fault – fucks expire too quickly. I would’ve liked to save my fucks from when I was younger but I can’t. Then, you hit fuck insolvency. You’re getting like 1 fuck a year, and you have to make it last. So you go without, and even previously fuck-worthy things, you just can’t give a fuck. Some people run out really quickly, Some people have a fuck trust fund that pays out a decent amount even into old age. But at some point, the fuck faucet runs completely dry and you’re out of fucks to give. It’s just basic Fuckonomics.
Unknown English Teacher (via memewhore)

(Source: swarthyvillain, via t-isfortaint)

assified:

i-love-art:

Rachel Idzerda

everything you’ve ever wanted

ink-and-roses:

ahumblebard:

doxian:

I want a movie about a little girl, aged like 11-12, going through the stuggles of prepubescent girl life, with her entire inner monologue is narrated by Samuel L. Jackson.

Shot of disgruntled adorable little girl.

SLJ: I knew that Susie was a backstabbin’ motherfucker, and if anyone was going to ruin my chances of being Miss Sugar Drop Queen, it was that asshole. 

I didn’t know I needed this in my life until now.

This is never not funny

(via joshpeck)

Three years later, a new girl sits cross-legged on your bed.
She tastes like a different flavor of bubblegum than you are used to.
She opens up a book that you had to read in high school, and a folded picture of us falls out of chapter three.
Now there are two unfinished stories resting in her lap.
Inevitably, she asks, and you tell her.

You say: I dated her a while back.
You don’t say: Sometimes, when I’m holding you, I imagine the smell of her vanilla perfume.

You say: She was younger than me.
You don’t say: The sixteen summers in her bones warmed the eighteen winters my skin had weathered.

You say: It’s nothing now.
You don’t say: But it was everything then.


Some things are better left unsaid.  (via fawun)

(Source: poppyflowerpoetry, via youkillmypatience)

You are not designed for everyone to like you.
(via hedonistpoet)

(via joshpeck)