i desperately wanna get stoned on the beach here with some really stellar people but the only people around are Privileged Straight Rich Preppy White Boys
Childish Gambino •
Camp • 181,647 plays
"Are we datin’? Are we fuckin’?
Are we best friends? Are we something, in between that?
I wish we never fucked and I mean that.
But not really, you say the nastiest shit in bed and it’s fuckin’ awesome.”
can we not do the whole sexualizing feminism to make it more appealing to men thing thank u in advance
July 29th, 2014
An entire Gaza neighborhood is decimated within an hour by Israeli air strikes. The video is further proof that Israel has no regard for the life of innocent Palestinians.
Israel attacked Gaza’s only power plant on Tuesday, leaving the Palestinian territory’s 1.8 million residents with no electricity or running water and opened the possibility of an even graver humanitarian crisis.
After three weeks of violence between Israel and Gaza, more than 1,100 Palestinians have been killed by Israeli air and ground strikes. About 75 percent of Palestinian deaths have been civilians. Several thousand have been wounded and more than 100,000 displaced. Fifty-three Israeli soldiers have died, as well as three civilians.
Just look at the casualties. This is not a war, it is genocide.
i need kisses and attention and alcohol
❝Here is the truth of nostalgia: we don’t feel it for who we were, but who we weren’t
. We feel it for all the possibilities that were open to us, but that we didn’t take.
Time is like wax, dripping from a candle flame. In the moment, it is molten and falling, with the capability to transform into any shape. Then the moment passes, and the wax hits the table top and solidifies into the shape it will always be. It becomes the past, a solid single record of what happened, still holding in its wild curves and contours the potential of every shape it could have held.
It is impossible not to feel a little sad, looking at that bit of wax. That bit of the past. It is impossible not to think of all the wild forms that wax now will never take. The village, glimpsed from a train window, beautiful and impossible and impossibly beautiful on a mountaintop, and you wonder what it would be if you stepped off the train and walked up the trail to its quiet streets and lived there for the rest of your life. All variety of lost opportunity spied from the windows of public transportation, really. It can be overwhelming, this splattered, inert wax recording every turn not taken.
‘What’s the point?’ you ask. ‘Why bother?’ you say. But then you remember — I remember! — that we are even now in another bit of molten wax. We are in a moment that is still falling, still volatile, and we will never be anywhere else. We will always be in that most dangerous, most exciting, most possible time of all: the Now. Where we never can know what shape the next moment will take.
Stay tuned next for, well… let’s just find out together, shall we?❞