New Generation - The Happy Unfortunate
this exclusive will ONLY be up for the weekend, so reblog while you can!
Eminem - It’s OK (ft. Eye-Kyu)
It’s a broke day, but everything is OK,
I’m up all night, but everything is alright,
It’s a rough week, and I don’t get enough sleep,
It’s a long year, pretending I belong here
Some olddd school Eminem.
Straight-line Racing
I’ve never really saw the point in going all out building a car that goes fast going straight. Might as well race trains if you ask me.
Thanksgiving 2010
I’m thankful for many things in my life but the highlight of my year this year was meeting you. From Korean BBQ, to Taco Tuesday, the dance show, our first official date on the beach, the Pike, both our proms and graduations, all the places we’ve went to on our monthly celebrations and the cue pics that came with them, the meanings we’ve attached to places like Skyline and Liberty Park, all the missions, the hugs, the kisses, the hand holding, and the mammoth texts.
To put it in ironically simple terms, thank you for all the memories. Thank you for trusting me enough to open up to me and share the person that nobody else really knows or sees, and for allowing me to do the same with you. Thank you for being there with me through all the tears, whether they flowed from your eyes or mine. Thank you for showing me how it feels to wake up and go to sleep everyday knowing I hold somebody else’s delicate heart. For showing me how it feels to have this indescribable happiness—the kind of happiness that makes you sound cheesy even when you’re being dead serious.You see, what you give me is the kind of happiness that fills that empty space beside me, even when we’re physically apart. Thank you for giving me the best seven months of my life, and for instilling within me the confidence that you’ll continue to give me the best of what life has to offer as the months pile on to years and years together.
Thank you for being the most understanding and selfless person I’ve ever met and for never disappointing me as I may have disappointed you at certain times; basically, for giving me more than I can describe to thank you for. If I were to name every little thing to do with you I’m grateful about it would be a list of pages, but what I really want to thank you for, is for loving me back. I love you Julie Hannsun, don’t ever change.
There is one thing all of us have in common. We’ve all been born and could die at any minute. Nothing shows us that there is an afterlife, and nothing proves that we simply rot away like the memories of our mortality. If you want people to mourn your death, you might as well tell them to mourn your birth, too. Both are inevitable. This is in the back of our minds while we work from nine to five over a job we have no passion for so we can buy nice things to push the cold thoughts away. So when you draw your last breath you will look back the times in your life where you could have lived to your full potential and really accomplish something worthwhile…but instead you read comics on the internet.
— Kris of Cyanide & Happiness
Catch A Bad One by Del the Funky Homosapien
“I get juice when I let loose a little of my cleverness
Up under my follicles with no mousse
Choose your weapon, you kept steppin’
You swept in a hurricane”
Holding On
Imagine you were holding on to somebody special. Literally. That from now on, you and that special someone will go through everything holding on to each other; through sunshine or a thorny field of roses or otherwise. Now the question arises, how do you two become separated? Simple. Separation will result from either one of you refusing to hold on to the other. It doesn’t matter whatever situation you two are in. If one chooses to let go, the risk of permanent separation becomes more likely.
Granted, if one lets go and the other chooses to hold on, there’s still a chance of staying together. Eventually, however, the sole partner holding on will get tired and eventually have to let go, either from frustration or fatigue. Sound familiar?
In the end, all that really matters is who wants to hold on, no matter what. The quality of a bond resides in the effort both partners put into holding on despite the odds. That’s what shows you’re willing to fight through anything and in the end lets you brag, “We’ve been through everything.”
Shaking Hands
In ancient times, the common ritual of greeting was a hug accompanied by a kiss on the cheek. In acts of betrayal, murders were committed this way, where one of the men would stab the other in the back with a hidden stiletto (hence the concept of backstabbing). Thus, the handshake gradually came to replace the traditional hug-and-kiss greeting. It was made to prevent these murders from lack of exposure of one’s back and becoming vulnerable to a stab, and the “shake” served to expose any weapons hidden inside a potential traitor’s sleeve.
The handshake still stands as a traditional gesture of greeting and good spirits in today’s modern society. Though we no longer need worry of hidden blades during a hug or a handshake, there are still other weapons of deceit and betrayal that we are vulnerable to—particularly the tongue.
Though the tongue in itself cannot cause any physical harm, it is a very dangerous weapon of emotional and mental destruction. The most degrading insults serve as proverbial stabs to others’ hearts, each negative comment a slash and each belittling of a person’s being a jab at their fragile self-esteem. Though death may not occur physically from such an episode, on an emotional and mental level, death would not even describe the beginning of the result.
# November 6, 2010 / 9:59PM
9,727 notes
WHAT DO YOU NOTICE ABOUT THIS PICTURE?
Let me guess. You noticed that spot there, didn’t you? That little spot, amidst all the white that surrounds it.
My teacher back in my first year of high school showed something like this to us.
Point?
You noticed the flaw.
And so?
More often than not, we tend to do the same when we look at other people.
Instead of seeing people as a whole, we tend to let a single flaw outweigh the plethora of good traits the persons possess.
Look at that picture, there’s a whole lot of white out there, but your eyes most probably focused on that tiny bit of black right there.
Think about it. Meet a person, a new friend. They’ll have a clean slate, but once something you don’t like about them surfaces, it’ll stick out like a sore thumb.
I hope that the world would be less judgmental, and choose to see more of the white amidst the black.
The List; I shall own all these in the span of my life
Rough order of “value,” but nothing is set in stone.
Toyota Supra
Z32 Nissan 300ZX Twin Turbo
Ferrari F360 Modena
S15 Nissan Silvia
Dodge Viper SRT10
FD3S Mazda RX-7 with RE Amemiya Headlights
NA2
Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution IX MR
AP2 Honda S2000
E30 BMW 3-series
Some kind of old school Toyota with a 4AGZE swap (AE86 Levin shown)
Mazda Miata to fling around, hehe :]
What the fuck has Obama done so far?! →
Inform yourself and click ^
Lee O.: Beyond It →
If a picture was worth a thousand words, all the pictures in the world would still be worthless.
No word is worth it; no dialect of any language, no voice that could ever muster anything that sounded beautiful.
Nothing conjured in the confines of one’s thoughts, nothing written on paper, nothing heard in conversation, nothing expressed in melody.
If a picture were worth a thousand words, the statement itself means nothing.
If no amount of pictures are worth it, nothing I just said is worth it, nor anything else I could ever say.
I’m feeling nostalgic
I yearn for those days when all I had to worry about was going to school and playing after. The days when I would go through a Goosebumps or two in a day and I would look forward to buying another couple to read. When the best shows were All That, Kenan and Kel, Cousin Skeeter, Rocko’s Modern Life, Rugrats… These were the days when the grown ups would do all the worrying for me and all I really had to worry about was what I wanted to eat and what I wanted to play on any particular afternoon. I yearn for those times when nothing seemed wrong and everything was perfect, and everybody seemingly lived “happily ever after.” As I sit here sighing to myself, I can only hope the cool, gentle breeze silently passing my window comes in and sweeps me away, lifting me back to the bliss I once knew…the kind of bliss that does not trace back to and merely stops at ignorance—for ignorance is a result of innocence anyway. Truth is, Innocence is bliss, and those are the days I find myself long for.
Shuffle
As the soundwaves enter my ear, every beat of percussion, every note of the melody echoes in the hall; otherwise my body and my being. The stimulation in my eardrums reverberates through my mind, my emotions, in an embodiment beyond physical, as it reaches to touch soul. Every little vibration, every disturbance in the air is absorbed and translated into a tap of the foot or a nod of the head, as I don’t only feel the music inside me, I become the song itself—even if only for a handful of minutes. Every word of lyric is understood and felt as the bass nudges at my soul to stand, and the vocals push me to a state of melodious euphoria. My surroundings fade away and I am lost in a disequilibrium of senses, indifferent to the goings-on around me.
“Which way is up? Which way is down? Which way is left—what about right?”
Factors such as these (more or less mediocre) attempt to rationalize my current situation but fade away as the bars progress and time passes slowly. I keep walking and walking, endlessly with no apparent direction though the music guides my every stride, therefore I am secure. I can forget about the stresses of the day and the stresses that await me an hour from now and just get lost, though in reality I know where I’m at. I am placed in a new and equally animating wonderland with each subsequent track.
And then it stopped.
The beats and voices fade away as I am thrust again into the reality of life; I’m back in battle. The batteries are out, as my encased world of wonderlands assert a need for recharging. Perhaps it arrived right on time, I might’ve gotten too lost.
“It’s okay. Give it a few hours and utopia shall return.”
And with that I return to the status quo, as I ramble on and toil away, walking, walking, walking until I can refresh my iPod and get lost to find myself again, somewhere in the shuffle.
