Crystal's Muse

Random thoughts of a random person.


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Reblogged from hitrecord
Reblogged from walkers-and-mutts

malkatz:

petrichor-and-holy-water:

shadowpaintedrose:

stumpholewhiskey:

cornchipz:

muriel-fedder:

walkers-and-mutts:

OMG, look at this Jennifer Lawrence trasformation!

WHAT THE FUCk

SHE SHOULD BE A SPY

SHIT SON

image

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PROMISE TAMANG PHAN IS A GODESS!!!!

if you think that’s good, look at her jessica alba one

(via pigpigpigpiggiespigpig)

Reblogged from daydreamthoughts

stormagedon:

loseyourselfinthenight:

I don’t even watch this shit, but he’s hilarious.

I might actually be him

(Source: daydreamthoughts, via emilaugh)

Reblogged from denisecua

The Story of Kyle
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, “Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.”I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up, and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes.My heart went out to him. So I jogged over to him, and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, “Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.” He looked at me and said, “Hey thanks!” There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.I helped him pick up his books and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before, but we talked all the way home, and I carried his books.He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes.We hung out all weekend, and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, “Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!” He just laughed and handed me half the books.Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn’t me having to get up there and speak.On graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him! Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech, so I smacked him on the back and said, “Hey, big guy, you’ll be great!” He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. “Thanks,” he said.As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. “Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach — but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story.” I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn’t have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. “Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.”I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth.Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture, you can change a person’s life.

The Story of Kyle

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, “Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.”

I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on. As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up, and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes.

My heart went out to him. So I jogged over to him, and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, “Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.” He looked at me and said, “Hey thanks!” There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.

I helped him pick up his books and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before, but we talked all the way home, and I carried his books.

He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes.

We hung out all weekend, and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, “Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!” He just laughed and handed me half the books.

Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship.

Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn’t me having to get up there and speak.

On graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him! Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech, so I smacked him on the back and said, “Hey, big guy, you’ll be great!” He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. “Thanks,” he said.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. “Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach — but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story.” I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn’t have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. “Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.”

I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize its depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture, you can change a person’s life.

(Source: denisecua, via christina-r-a-e)

Reblogged from christina-r-a-e

christina-r-a-e:

The B-52’s - Love Shack

Reblogged from tinyfactss

Reblogged from soyysauceeboii

curryz:

i love this so much

(Source: soyysauceeboii, via primalmindset)

Reblogged from jtotheizzoe
jtotheizzoe:

Klimt under the neuroscientist’s microscope
I’m amazed by the message above, a neuroscientist’s take on our unconscious responses to viewing art (or at least this art). It suggests that most of our reactions to art are invisible, which is both an obvious idea and one that is difficult to dissect. Many feel that they can deeply, consciously and objectively analyze art, but is our reaction more like an iceberg, mostly beneath surface?
Nobel winner Eric Kandel is not just an eminent neuroscientist, he’s a scholar of art and European culture in the golden age of Vienna. One of Kandel’s favorite subjects is Gustav Klimt, a highly erotic and symbolic painter famous for his golden-hued explorations of the female form. Above, looking at Judith and the Head of Holofernes, Kandel offers a glimpse of the neurotransmitters that silently influence the reaction of our brains, and our bodies, to works of art.
Check out Kandel’s masterful book The Age of Insight for more on how the scientific revolution of 19th century Vienna changed how we look at both the brain and art.
(↬ zenpundit)

jtotheizzoe:

Klimt under the neuroscientist’s microscope

I’m amazed by the message above, a neuroscientist’s take on our unconscious responses to viewing art (or at least this art). It suggests that most of our reactions to art are invisible, which is both an obvious idea and one that is difficult to dissect. Many feel that they can deeply, consciously and objectively analyze art, but is our reaction more like an iceberg, mostly beneath surface?

Nobel winner Eric Kandel is not just an eminent neuroscientist, he’s a scholar of art and European culture in the golden age of Vienna. One of Kandel’s favorite subjects is Gustav Klimt, a highly erotic and symbolic painter famous for his golden-hued explorations of the female form. Above, looking at Judith and the Head of Holofernes, Kandel offers a glimpse of the neurotransmitters that silently influence the reaction of our brains, and our bodies, to works of art.

Check out Kandel’s masterful book The Age of Insight for more on how the scientific revolution of 19th century Vienna changed how we look at both the brain and art.

( zenpundit)

Reblogged from nyquilontherocks
In pop culture, girls who crush hopelessly on guys they can’t have are painted as just that – hopeless. Over and over again, we’re taught that girls who openly express sexual or romantic interest in guys who don’t want them are pitiable, stalkerish, desperate, crazy bitches. More often than not, they’re also portrayed as ugly – whether physically, emotionally or both – in order to further establish their undesirability as an objective fact. Both narratively and, as a consequence, in real life, men are given free reign to snub, abuse, mislead and talk down to such women: we’re raised to believe that female desire is unseemly, so that any consequent shaming is therefore deserved. There is no female-equivalent Friend Zone terminology because, in the language of our culture, a man’s romantic choices are considered sacrosanct and inviolable. If a girl has been told no, then she has only herself to blame for anything that happens next – but if a woman says no, then she must not really mean it. Or, if she does, she shouldn’t: the rejected man is a universally sympathetic figure, and everyone from moviegoers to platonic onlookers will scream at her to justgive him a chance, as though her rejection must always be unfounded rather than based on the fact that he had a chance, and blew it. And even then, give him another one! The pathos of Single Nice Guys can only be eased by pity-sex with unwilling women that blossoms into romance!

Lamenting the Friendzone, or: The Nice Guy Approach to Perpetuating Sexist Bullshit (via nyquilontherocks)

“If a girl has been told no, then she has only herself to blame for anything that happens next – but if a woman says no, then she must not really mean it. Or, if she does, she shouldn’t: the rejected man is a universally sympathetic figure, and everyone from moviegoers to platonic onlookers will scream at her to justgive him a chance”

This reminds me of 500 Days of Summer and other countless movies…

——-

^^^^ That’s exactly what I was thinking while reading this. That’s why I don’t like guys that say that they always finish last because they are the “nice guys”, pf.

(via strudel-cutie)

———-

I love the film (bcuz of jgl and zooey’s presence by default) but there are plenty of things wrong with it.

Most people have the reaction (men and women)

“Oh well she’s a bitch, he’s so nice why wouldn’t you stay with him”

It’s sadder when I hear girls say it. It’s kind of annoying. Plus his character wasn’t that nice, he had some douche moments. He wasn’t perfect and neither was she.  Like the bit where he’s talking to his friends in the cafe and calls her a skank because he saw her in the elevator and she said her weekend was “good” in a certain manner… where he thought she had sex with her gym instructor? NICE. I don’t know how anyone comes to that conclusion based on talking to someone for one second. Even if he was perfect, she’s not obligated to be with him just because he’s “nice”, she doesn’t owe anyone a relationship. And if you’re using the nice guy excuse then you’re probably already a douche anyway. You don’t get a free pass in life just because 1.you’re a guy 2. you’re nice. And you certainly won’t get it from a girl.

The screenwriter based 70-80% of it on his own experiences with his ex. Which clearly explains why we only see it through JGL’s character.  It was tacky to lead him on but she never promised more than she gave and eventually did break it off before it went any further. People fail to pick up on the fact that he just didn’t listen, which pretty much happened for most of the relationship in the film. She clearly told him she didn’t want a relationship. I sense we’re pretty much set up to hate Zooey’s character even though we were never even really given enough info about her to make the assumption that she really is a bitch. Essentially her character is nothing more than a one dimensional because plot device really what can you expect from White Straight Hollywood writers?

Even JGL himself said in an interview agreed that his character never really listened to her or saw her as a real person. But idolised her because of his own miserable life and needed an escape route. Often the hardcore fangirls get carried away and go WOW WHAT A BITCH HOW dare she not be in a r/ship with a guy that LOOKS like jgl. If JGL looked like a fat homeless guy how many people would still be going “why wouldn’t she stay with him, he’s so nice!!”

(via artpixie)

(Source: fozmeadows, via artpixie)

Reblogged from noyzhiphop
paper-aeroplanee:

birdbrainblue:

doov:

veri-pageofknowledge:

landofinkandglass:

lunainvidia:

barnabyqueefs:

pilgrimkitty:

(via imgTumble)
She is running in a long-sleeved black shirt and tights, in the middle of summer, outside.  And she’s still in the lead.
Tell me again how Muslim women aren’t tough?

HOW THE HELL IS SHE DOING THIS WHILE FASTING
EVERYONE PLEASE REMEMBER ITS RAMADAN
GOD BLESS THE MUSLIMS USUALLY I DONT ADD COMMENTARY BUT FRICK

I don’t think I could have reblogged this except…. Ramadan
good lord.
meanwhile I can’t run a mile, derp

BOSS

i feel like we’re reaching a tipping point
i feel like the world is reaching a point of acceptance
i just really want us to push over into that point so badly because this
this stuff right here
this is perfect

holy shit this woman is so boss

Ramadan, tho

FUCK YAH. YOU GO GIRL.

paper-aeroplanee:

birdbrainblue:

doov:

veri-pageofknowledge:

landofinkandglass:

lunainvidia:

barnabyqueefs:

pilgrimkitty:

(via imgTumble)

She is running in a long-sleeved black shirt and tights, in the middle of summer, outside.  And she’s still in the lead.

Tell me again how Muslim women aren’t tough?

HOW THE HELL IS SHE DOING THIS WHILE FASTING

EVERYONE PLEASE REMEMBER ITS RAMADAN

GOD BLESS THE MUSLIMS USUALLY I DONT ADD COMMENTARY BUT FRICK

I don’t think I could have reblogged this except…. Ramadan

good lord.

meanwhile I can’t run a mile, derp

BOSS

i feel like we’re reaching a tipping point

i feel like the world is reaching a point of acceptance

i just really want us to push over into that point so badly because this

this stuff right here

this is perfect

holy shit this woman is so boss

Ramadan, tho

FUCK YAH. YOU GO GIRL.

(Source: noyzhiphop, via primalmindset)