Avec Moi et Toi

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If you’re lesbian and you fall for a guy
FINE
If you’re gay and you fall for a woman
FINE
If you’re bisexual and you have a preference for girls
FINE
If you’re bisexual and you have a preference for guys
FINE
If you’re pansexual and have a preference
FINE
What’s not fine is telling someone they can’t

(Source: 50shadesofacceptance)

Posted on Sunday, 5 May with 103,047 notes.

whtev-r:

OKAY IM DOING A SCHOOL PROJECT ON GAY MARRIAGE AND I HAVE TO USE STATISTICS SO REBLOG IF YOU SUPPORT GAY MARRIAGE AND LIKE IF YOU DONT

Posted on Sunday, 5 May with 87,755 notes.

Rock and roll Jesus with a cowboy mouth: I hate when people dismiss Lana Del Rey as shallow or boring or fake...

pinupgaloremissamerica:

americanhighwayflower:

I hate when people dismiss Lana Del Rey as shallow or boring or fake or unoriginal. It took awhile for her to grow on me, but now I’m kind of smitten with her as an artist. She explores such interesting, unique themes in her music. Patriotism, travel, forbidden love for men she shouldn’t be able to have but does, old school glamour and fame. She romanticizes trivial places like an Italian restaurant by Coney Island, hotels, 7/11 and gas stations, but I LOVE that because those kind of places are romantic to me too - they are symbols of road trips and exploration. Some of her songs are so meaningful to me that it’s actually physically painful for me to listen to them. She sings my fantasies that I never thought to put into words or write about. Not to mention she is drop dead gorgeous, whether her nose/lips are fake or not. Good for her for changing her appearance if that’s what she wanted. She is such a sweetheart to her fans. She calls them her friends and adores them, because she knows they are the ones who got her videos viral and got her noticed. You can tell that even with her ~Lana Del Rey~ glamorous persona, she’s still the quirky girl Lizzy Grant that she used to be. I hate when people say she was a failed musician before she was Lana. She didn’t fail. She went through several name changes, trying out different personas and styles of music, and this one happened to work for her. Her lyrics are moving stories. They’re not just about her pussy tasting like Pepsi Cola. Listen to her songs, even her Lizzy Grant songs. She sang about going into aviation and her grandma’s trailer. She sings about her life, but from such an interesting viewpoint. She is SO fascinating once you learn about her life, yet she’s still so mysterious. She’s an amazing songwriter, has a stunning voice, and is incredibly unique visually and musically. She’s the ACTUALLY GOOD pop star, bombshell and icon we have been missing for a long time. I can’t wait to see how much further she goes with her career. Love all the way.

Posted on Sunday, 5 May with 60 notes.

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$blissuntouchable: cheers-to-all-you-skinnies: someonesthunderboltsomeday: lsdandthc: skittlezthecat: da-sy: redvinesgiraffe: You were on your way home when you died. It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me. And that’s when you met me. “What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?” “You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words. “There was a… a truck and it was skidding…” “Yup,” I said. “I… I died?” “Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said. You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?” “More or less,” I said. “Are you god?” You asked. “Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.” “My kids… my wife,” you said. “What about them?” “Will they be all right?” “That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.” You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty. “Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.” “Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?” “Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.” “Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,” “All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.” You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?” “Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.” “So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.” “Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.” I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had. “You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.” “How many times have I been reincarnated, then?” “Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.” “Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?” “Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.” “Where you come from?” You said. “Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.” “Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.” “Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.” “So what’s the point of it all?” “Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?” “Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted. I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.” “You mean mankind? You want us to mature?” “No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.” “Just me? What about everyone else?” “There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.” You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…” “All you. Different incarnations of you.” “Wait. I’m everyone!?” “Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back. “I’m every human being who ever lived?” “Or who will ever live, yes.” “I’m Abraham Lincoln?” “And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added. “I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled. “And you’re the millions he killed.” “I’m Jesus?” “And you’re everyone who followed him.” You fell silent. “Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.” You thought for a long time. “Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?” “Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.” “Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?” “No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.” “So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…” “An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.” And I sent you on your way. O_O yesss i found it again! one of my all time favourite reads. Philosophy went to the max right here OI SCROLL BACK UP AND READ ALL OF IT! I was really intrigued by this This is wonderful :) DAAAAAMMMMMNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN$

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