a routine malaise

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"I met my wife at a Star Trek convention. She was study abroad from France and spoke little English, and I didn’t know a lick of French. So, for the first few months of our relationship, we communicated by speaking Klingon."

Hear more tales of nerdery in this week’s Pwn Up! (via dorkly)

Okay I’m not even a Star Trek fan but that’s beautiful.

(via tchy)

(via amovible)

— 5 hours ago with 76333 notes
#that's the sweetest thing ever 
phyxiated:

rainbowcranes:

Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”
On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 
Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 
This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.

Im crying oh my god

phyxiated:

rainbowcranes:

Growing up, my dad had a rule. “You can’t get a tattoo. If you do, I will make you get it removed. Unless, that is, you join the army and can shoot a seagull in the eye from a mile away, or you have a near-death experience.”

On July 12, 2011, I rode my bicycle to the camp I worked at. On my way home, I rode down a hill, and stopped at the bottom. I looked both ways, and there was no car coming. I started to turn left when I got hit by a car going ~55 miles per hour. I completely shattered the windshield, and when the driver stopped, I was ejected back onto the road. The doctors in the emergency room were absolutely perplexed when I arrived, because they all agreed that I should have died, and they were amazed to release me 4 and a half hours later with only 16 stitches, a concussion, and a chipped tooth. During my recovery, I was angry and confused. A couple if days after my accident, I received cards from my eight year old campers. One of them drew a giant paper crane, and said, “if you fold a thousand paper cranes, you’ll get better”. 

Not being able to read, ride a bicycle, or put stress on my body, I cut up an old sudoku puzzle, went on YouTube, and learned how to make a paper crane. By the end of the day, I had a laundry basket full of black and white paper cranes. 
I kept making paper cranes, even after I made a thousand, and I ran into a dilemma. What do you do with paper cranes once you’ve made them? A girl in my class had committed suicide the same day I had my accident, and I brought a purple crane to her wake. Her family could not have been happier the moment I presented them with this crane. Something clicked in my head right there. I started giving them to people and hiding them in random places for people to find. I started making art with them, and they became a major part of who I was. 

This tattoo is symbolic of my accident, and could not represent me any better.

Im crying oh my god

(via amovible)

— 15 hours ago with 78917 notes
#well now i know with all of my cranes!  #really half of them are just hidden everywhere in my house by accident  #but now my tiny cranes shall be joy to the world and i won't even have to be injured for it! 

littleredthe-badwolf:

skypestripper:

hoodbypussy:

Évolution inversée

these dont even look like him

^^^hahaha

— 19 hours ago with 99324 notes
brokensilence137:

dynaroo:



I think this bird got confused when someone told him he belonged in the sky.
He decided to be the sky instead.

brokensilence137:

dynaroo:

image

I think this bird got confused when someone told him he belonged in the sky.

He decided to be the sky instead.

(via erosanddiscord)

— 20 hours ago with 155344 notes

Ready, Able by Grizzly Bear

(Source: musical-blog, via postcardofapplecores)

— 1 day ago with 588 notes
tmbre:

Toro y Moi, aka Chazwick Bradley Bundick

tmbre:

Toro y Moi, aka Chazwick Bradley Bundick

(via postcardofapplecores)

— 1 day ago with 3706 notes

spicyshimmy:

spicyshimmy:

*carries a redshirt with me but doesn’t wear it* it’s a metaphor for dying on away missions but i don’t put it on because i don’t actually want to die on away missions

the fault in our star trek

(via guywiththefire)

— 1 day ago with 16544 notes
http://www.youtube.com/attribution_link?a=cNGfDzBrkqc&u=/watch?v=EjSCy1GC6Sc&feature=share →

amovible:

amovible:

Okay, as a Palestinian myself I completely LOVE when I see artistic things such as these to express daily life within the walls of the occupation,
and if any Spanish (I think its Spanish ) speakers can translate this for me Id really like that

Come on I’ve had text posts that said the word “potatoes” get notes and this doesn’t.

Everything begins with a spark
When we radiate flames from our eyes
They want to stop the fire that spreads out
But there are fires that can’t be extinguished with water

And the police line gets closer
The muscles tense
The heart frequency increases
Testosterone levels go up
And that moment begins
The moment where people come face to face
When we become friends with courage
When screaming becomes our only language
I am commanded by reason, you are commanded by a colonel
If our fight is made of carton
Yours is made of paper

And you won’t stop us
Because a clear message
Transforms any liutenant
A shark without teeth

State fears us
Because we are 132 and 15M
If the media doesn’t dare
We do
We paint the walls
Graffiti on the streets
I raise my protest and I speak out loud
With just one person to read it
The world will start to change!

CHORUS:
Elbow with elbow
Step by step

The wave gets bigger

The foam gets ticker

As more people join
(…)

The one who controls
The one who dictates
Wants to get you sick to sell you drugs
And we take those pills

They make us dumb
Any question we might have
They found a way to skip
They give us lies
They feed us with processed meat
People still misinformed
A piece of news not well told
Is an assault with a weapon!

We infiltrate
We duplicate
Like the cells
We multiply
To the one who doesn’t want broth
It’s given two cups
We are the baking soda that makes the mass expand
Our ideas are free and they are awake
Because we think with the doors wide open
What is not seen
We are seeing
We are born without knowing how to talk
But we will die talking out loud!

— 1 day ago with 15 notes