One day, I realized he might not exist. My soulmate, I mean.
I realized there might not be someone walking around this earth just waiting to meet me. Someone with a private world just as intricate as mine that, one day, I would get to share and be a part of and know.
And I realized I was keeping a vacant spot in my heart for this person who might not exist. That I wasn’t allowing myself to be whole because how could I be whole with my other half missing?
It was an excuse, of course. A simple view of life that would exempt me from having to put in the effort of filling myself up with the love I was waiting for someone else to supply.
The reality is this: Life is a churning, chaotic thing with no guarantees, and in the throws of the tumbling you might run into people to hold on to for a while. Sometimes for a night, sometimes for life.
And holding on to someone is a worthy thing. A wonderful thing. Something to look forward to and appreciate and embrace with your whole heart.
But the love you get from holding on to someone will never be as reliable as the love you can give yourself. Right here. Right now.
So here’s my advice. Be open to love, but don’t be empty for it."
Open, Not Empty - John Paul Brammer (via johnpaulbrammer)
Why one eyebrow always comin out Gucci and the other eyebrow comin out Walmart
I’m surrounded by people who just wanna get blackout drunk for fun. Like nah man. Let’s go camping or take a road trip or do some stuff we haven’t done before. I wanna live.
Hello Note by Grace Ann Leadbeater
Me, no matter what time it is (via natashakills)
Games with English: insert the word “only” anywhere into the above sentence and consider how the placement changes meaning.
I’m pretty sure I’ve reblogged this a million times already but whateva
broccoli floret crowns are better than flower crowns
i’ve never seen something so accurate
Youtube music awards? seriously? what’s next? Instagram’s next top model?
DON’T GIVE TYRA ANY IDEAS
Say hello to mechanically separated chicken. It’s what all fast-food chicken is made from—things like chicken nuggets and patties. Also, the processed frozen chicken in the stores is made from it.
Basically, the entire chicken is smashed and pressed through a sieve—bones, eyes, guts, and all. it comes out looking like this.
There’s more: because it’s crawling with bacteria, it will be washed with ammonia, soaked in it, actually. Then, because it tastes gross, it will be reflavored artificially. Then, because it is weirdly pink, it will be dyed with artificial color.
But, hey, at least it tastes good, right?
High five, America!
oh my god
bitch that’s the tubby custard machine
OMFG THIS POST FINALLY MADE IT TO MY DASHBOARD IM CRYING
"bitch that’s the tubby custard machine"
10,000 years from now on the dawn of a new civilization where we are all just brains in jars flying spaceships through the vast unknowable void, i will still be laughing my ass off at “bitch that’s the tubby custard machine”. this i vow.
God this got me so goodI am so glad I read all of it
Hook, 1991 (via youngfolksociety)