My father tells me that I’m too loud
but he hasn’t yet figured out that
I inherited it from him,
that some traits were passed down

to his daughters
even though he wanted to see them

in sons.

Had I been a boy, he would’ve told me

to shout louder,

the the world wants to hear

what a man has to say.

I’ll keep shouting until someone listens,
until I wake up god from a peaceful
night’s sleep.

He created all men equally,
where do I fit in?
Jasmin R, Untitled  (via ruby-moon)

(via itsangieeee)

oh-no-now-what-did-i-do:

If I faced life with the same confidence and enthusiasm that I do the internet, I would really be something.

iamprincessash:


I don’t even care how this happened

iamprincessash:

I don’t even care how this happened

(via llamammama)

When my husband [Carl Sagan] died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me — it still sometimes happens — and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again.

Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous — not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous and so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful.

The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.

Ann Druyan (via whats-out-there)

(via taliabobalia)

NO BUT SERIOUSLY

jamietheignorantamerican:

WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THE QUETZALCOATLUS?!

image

I MEAN, JESUS F. CHRIST.

image

PTERODACTYLS AIN’T SHIT NEXT TO THESE MOTHER FUCKERS. QUETZALCOATLUS FUCKING ATE BABY DINOSAURS FOR BRUNCH.

image

LITTLE-FOOT, NOOOO!!!

image

JUST IMAGINE SOMETHING AS TALL AS A MOTHER FUCKING GIRAFFE

image

SOARING THROUGH THE SKIES AT 80 MILES PER HOUR, AND THEN SWOOPING DOWN AND FUCKING EATING YOUR FACE OFF. 

image

FUCKING QUETZALCOATLUS

(via lovestrucktroubadour)

elphabaoftheopera:

itsadonigma:

knickied:

candie-leonhart:

Tamera Mowry Responds to Critics of Her Interracial Marriage ( x )

YOOOOOOO that second insult though. SHIT

And here’s the thing that gets me, she ONLY speaks of love. She doesn’t insult black men, or speak of black men or white men as the alternative or better option, she speaks of love. 

That’s so sad, because it is love. Not an, “I don’t like black men because…”. 

Im crying

I’m almost crying over this. Tamera Mowry is a sweetheart. I had NO idea she was getting so much grief over this! It’s ridiculous! I just want to give her a hug right now. 

(via talldarklefty)

miss-love:

revenge-of-the-sock-puppets:

tattooposer:

wait what

THIS IS THE GREATEST THING I HAVE EVER BEEN A PART OF ON TUMBLR MY LIFE IS WORTH IT.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW

miss-love:

revenge-of-the-sock-puppets:

tattooposer:

wait what

THIS IS THE GREATEST THING I HAVE EVER BEEN A PART OF ON TUMBLR MY LIFE IS WORTH IT.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW

(via unskinny)

nateswinehart:

Being good to each other is so important, guys.

(via talldarklefty)

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