clmr
worship in the bedroom
holly / entp
slytherin / targaryen

twenty two, canadian, english major. obsessed with everything ( ◡ ‿ ◡ ✿)

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nevillellongbottom:

So apparently feminism is a hate movement. I’m sorry I don’t remember any feminists going on any shooting sprees because they were rejected by men or sending death and rape threats to blogger who pointed out sexism in video games.


thebacksideofthewall:

I swear the fuckin producers of the simpsons knew shit was an issue before anyone opened their eyes.


arrests:

Le givre à Giverny, by Claude Monet

arrests:

Le givre à Giverny, by Claude Monet


snowglakes:

im all about having more body posi media but not when the message is “boys like curvy girls” because who fucking cares what boys like


I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: “The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance.”

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don’t have her. To feel that I’ve lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn’t keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That’s all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else’s. She will be someone else’s. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.

— "Saddest Poem," Pablo Neruda (via commovente)



foodffs:

Creamy Broccoli Chicken Shells and Cheese

Really nice recipes. Every hour.



intensional:

when you finally win a long argument

image


"I think that movies are different things to different people. To me, they’re a really important part of cultural identity. They’re a great touchstone to who we were and what were on about at any given time. You look back to the cinema of the ’70s and ’80s and you see all different types of actors and palettes. It wasn’t so much about physical perfection. You had very odd leading men. It’s interesting how movies and culture reflect who we are. You’ll find that the movie business is paid for by those mega movies. The movie business is paid for by Big Macs. By movies as product. Movie studios use that term “product” all the time. Product? You mean you have a lot of stories? No, we have a lot of product. You have stories."

– DAVID FINCHER

READ THE FULL “GONE GIRL” INTERVIEW WITH DAVID FINCHER ON LITTLE WHITE LIES 


Oh, I can’t stop drinking the coffee. I stop drinking the coffee, I stop doing the standing and walking and the words-putting-into-sentence-doing.”


cyberfricking:

are you ignoring me or am i just worrying too much: an autobiography


"People never really lose that spark, I don’t think you can take it away from humanity, no matter how much you beat them down, it never quite disappears"