If only Bradley’s arm was longer. Best photo ever.
i have so much homework
what movie should i watch
- Books 1-3: Fuck yeah, I'm Harry Potter.
- Books 4-7: Fuck, I'm Harry Potter.
Fight Club AU // A depressed, discharged soldier named John meets an eccentric, freelance detective named Sherlock - and together, they channel primal male aggression into a shocking new form of therapy. Their concept catches on, with underground “fight clubs” forming in every town. Though when John is exposed to the hidden agenda of Sherlock’s fight club, he must accept the awful truth that “Sherlock” may not be who he says he is…
PROTECT CUTE BOYS WHO MAKE BAD PUNS AT ALL COSTS
See ya in 40 days tumblr.
The truth is that there are a lot of people like you, us, with strange hobbies or talents or gifts and we try to hide it because we’re afraid that it makes us seem weird or it will turn people off, but that’s a mistake. What makes me unique has brought every person I love into my life.
Her heart is a Pandora’s Box made of brick. At one time it was malleable clay, shaped by various people, willing to be easily opened by anyone who tried. But a kiln fueled by pain, betrayal, and abandonment turned the clay into what it is now, firm and heavy, yet still fragile bricks held together by a mortar of self preservation and fear of what is inside. Longing to feel loves the heart used to share itself with others, but soon realized that the weight of the brick cage and its contents was best kept to itself. For the heart believed the people it loved deserved everything but the burden of supporting such a cumbersome thing. So this brick Pandora’s Box loves from afar, protecting it’s beloved from the inevitable moment when its own weight becomes too much. When the one holding the brick box gives in to their exhaustion and lets the heart fall. As it shatters the Pandora’s Box releases its contents. The built up sadness, and anger, and fear. The pain that was suppressed for so long withing that brick cage, simply adding to its weight. Bitterness, selfishness, hatred, negativity, jealousy, anxiety, paranoia, arrogance. All of it escapes from the box like toxic clouds of ash that rained down from Pompeii, showing no mercy to the ill-fated people caught in its path. Yet once the virulent contents have been purged two things remain. Fresh clay, and hope, with which a new heart can be molded.
I’ve always kinda loved writing but I’ve never been particularly good at it. And despite practice being an obvious way to improve I’ve never had the motivation to write more because at least for me it’s really difficult. Luckily though due to my English class I’m now being forced to write and I’ve decided to post some of my writing on tumblr. So yeah here marks the beginnings of Erica tries to do the writing thing.
The mind of a writer can be a truly terrifying thing. Isolated, neurotic, caffeine-addled, crippled by procrastination and consumed by feelings of panic; self-loathing and soul-crushing inadequacy… And that’s on a good day!
Robert De Niro @ the 2014 Academy Awards (via rovescio)