“After a while you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul, and you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security, and you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises, and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child, and you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans. After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much. So plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers. And you learn that you really can endure… that you really are strong, and you really do have worth”—~Veronica A. Shoffstall
Thank you for the follow and your kind words. I don't really speak that many languages. I am a native spanish speaker, I study english since kindergarden and only recently I've fallen in love with french :)
What about you? Where are you from?
I grew up in the Philippines, then moved to New Zealand 2 years ago. And because of all my spare time, I have decided to make a tumblr.
Still in high school, and actually cramming like heck right now. :P
"Daddy, I had a bad dream." You blink your eyes and pull up on your elbows. Your clock glows red in the darkness—it’s 3:23. "Do you want to climb into bed and tell me about it?" "No, Daddy." The oddness of the situation wakes you up more fully. You can barely make out your daughter’s pale form in the darkness of your room. "Why not sweetie?" "Because in my dream, when I told you about the dream, the thing wearing Mommy’s skin sat up." For a moment, you feel paralyzed; you can’t take your eyes off of your daughter. The covers behind you begin to shift.
“Forgive and forget. That’s what they say. It’s good advice, but it’s not very practical. When someone hurts us, we want to hurt them back. When someone wrongs us, we want to be right. Without forgiveness old scores never settle. Old wounds never heal, and the most we can hope for is that someday we’ll be lucky enough to forget”—Grey’s Anatomy (via lotuspeakss)
The authors investigated the role of homosexual arousal in exclusively heterosexual men who admitted negative affect toward homosexual individuals. Participants consisted of a group of homophobic men (n = 35) and a group of nonhomophobic men (n = 29); they were assigned to groups on the basis of their scores on the Index of Homophobia (W. W. Hudson & W. A. Ricketts, 1980). The men were exposed to sexually explicit erotic stimuli consisting of heterosexual, male homosexual, and lesbian videotapes, and changes in penile circumference were monitored. They also completed an Aggression Questionnaire (A. H. Buss & M. Perry, 1992). Both groups exhibited increases in penile circumference to the heterosexual and female homosexual videos. Only the homophobic men showed an increase in penile erection to male homosexual stimuli. The groups did not differ in aggression. Homophobia is apparently associated with homosexual arousal that the homophobic individual is either unaware of or denies.
My grandpa died about ten years ago. He was an alcoholic. He drank so much one night that he couldn’t crawl back home, he fell asleep outside the house. It started snowing and he froze to death. Not the best way to go.
I don’t remember him much, except that he cooked well, and when I would visit him he’d be cooking and drinking from his flask simultaneously, and he would talk to me. Life advice and all that, although he always said that I should do the exact opposite of what he says. Anyway, one time he told me this: “I know I drink a lot. I know it’s probably going to kill me pretty soon. But people are just so goddamn stupid. I have to drink before I deal with all these goddamn stupid people in the world. Sometimes you just don’t know what to do but to have a drink. It makes everything a little better, because then you become stupid too. And you just don’t care anymore, about anything.”