A fear submitted by andthenwemetthelocals for deep-dark-fears.





This guy wears yoga pants and hides his face, then confronts guys who look at his butt.

This is so funny

Omg but I’m depressed his ass is nicer than mine

(via takeofyourpantsandjackit)




This is currently entertaining me to no end.

I love this so much.

This is fabulous!

(via cuthighandtightgrower)


Remixed Pop Culture Illustrations by Edno Pereira Jr

Find him on Threadless.

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  • >camping with friends
  • >walking along this path with my friend talking loudly
  • >she asks me
  • >"Oh crap, Meg did you bring that extra sleeping bag for me?"
  • >Yeah I got it, we're good.
  • >we keep walking
  • >getting pretty far away from camp
  • >suddenly from the brush cross the stream that our path paralleled
  • >Beeeeehhh did yeeeyyee bbrbrbring da eeetra eeeeepi beeerrrrrrggggg fo me
  • >it was so inhuman sounding like an animal almost
  • >it repeats several times
  • >each time it sounds more and more like my friend
  • >we are terrified
  • >we start running back
  • >hear leaves moving behind us
  • >too afraid to look
  • >from behind us in a low whimper
  • >"waaait I'm hurt"
  • >sounds just like me
  • >I'm crying
  • >we keep running
  • >as we get closer to the opening into the field we were camping in the bushes are thicker
  • >we're not real fit and we had been running pretty hard
  • >gasping for air
  • >directly from the right of us
  • >"tired YET"
  • >sounds like her again with almost a bark
  • >shaking so hard at this point
  • >I turn and look back
  • >see this massive mound of fur in the bushes turn and go back the way we came from
  • >get to camp and tell our friends what happened
  • >they of course don't believe us
  • >we refuse to stay there that night
  • >get in her car and drive to town and sleep in a cheap motel
  • >about 10 PM her phone rings
  • >friends at the camp
  • >friend gets hysterical telling them to leave
  • >they're convinced we drove back there are in the woods yelling that we're hurt and for them to come help us
  • >I turn up the motel tv and let them hear that we're in town
  • >they hang up immediately and drive to our motel and spend the rest of the night
  • >next day we go back for our shit and never go camping again

Sleep Paralysis

You wake up

There’s just black. You can’t breathe… you can’t move

You can’t speak

You pray only in moments like these, when you’re certain you’ll die.

You’re released because apparently something, someone took the time to to listen.

That’s the idea.

Selfishness and helplessness

These go hand in hand. Your neediness and unwillingness to do anything for yourself or for others, expecting more than you give in return.
You give nothing and yet you expect something.

You stroll to class.

 Late again, like yesterday, every day, since last year

You’re blaming the distance and your alarm clock. You get there in the middle of class, and your face is set, justified, believing that you’re in the right, and they’re in the wrong. Who are they to judge you, these teachers?

Go sit down.

Like if you have a choice.
Fuck them, you think, sulking in the backrow. The teacher obviously disinterested, goes back to lecturing, life goes on in the same manner.

They’re asking you for your homework, and you don’t hand it in. Why should you anyways? You’re intelligent.

Smarter than the students, than the teacher

You know better, and yet you don’t do anything.

Good, you’re already forgotten in their minds.

You’re walking with a friend, and he’s hoping you’ll keep him company a bit more.

I need to go home! You yell

They need me

Whose they? he asks

My family! You cry as you speed off

And they really don’t

He does.

He smiles, and nods his head. He goes, like many others, you won’t see him again. Soon, you won’t see many of them again.

You’re walking home, and every day, you lie.

You lie at school

At home

To your friends

Mostly to yourself… The act of believing yourself doesn’t require much persuasion, you just do and you’re fine with it.

And lying gets easier, so much easier

You go home and your sick mother

Your poor sick mother is there

You kiss her on the head, and you give her water

And you leave. You don’t direct another word at her for the rest of the day, night.

As if you helped

But you lie

And you say you do

And you use her as an excuse to do nothing

Your father is yelling at you

Telling you, asking you

Fucking pleading you

Why won’t you do anything?

Anything at all?

And you, self-satisfied

You lie and scream with the same conviction as his

That you do

That you do so much

And you cry

With your sour tears, you’re trembling on the floor, sobbing, feeling victimized and lonely and hurt.

And he pats you on the head and tells you it’s alright.

Friend after friend after friend

You tell them stories, of what your life is.

My dad beat me when I told him I was gay…they treat me like shit at home. I do everything there!

Can you believe that?

Can you?

You’re willing to do anything, anytime, until the last moment.

You want to go do something fun?

Something worthwhile?


Something, they ask you, and you tell them yes. Yes of course! With all your enthusiasm, you know you won’t follow through.

Why weren’t you there?

And you tell them your mother is sick.

You tell them your father is you know, “sick”

You owe them this much, that you have to clean the house, and watch your mother. You have to cook some food, and wash the clothing, that you have to stay home because they want you home.

You fucking liar.

You’re not breathing right now.

You’re stock still, and silent.

And you pray to god, because what else can you do? You’re probably dying.

You didn’t finish school, and right now, you’re dying.

Your mother is in a home somewhere, and you haven’t seen her in years.

And you’re not making any sounds.

Your father is alone, at home, working hard to keep things afloat.

And you’re worried about death.

You have no more friends

And you’re praying to god.

You’re stock still, and you’re not breathing, you’re not speaking.

You’re praying to yourself tonight.

Praying, telling god, to save you, right now, and you’ll change who you are, and who you’ll still be.

You’re praying to god, and for a moment, you believe yourself. 



Why would you even make this :’( 






“Tik Tok” by Ke$ha and “Come Together” by The Beatles mashup




I think I just jizzed in my pants… “How many times?” OVER NINE THOUSANDD!!!! Dx

(Source: danerjuice / doctordude)

Tags: life

Anonymous said: Lol. That was the best piece of poetry you could think up. Nice.

You  think so? Well thank you anon :].

Yes, yes yesss


But Link’s arrow is so legit. It fucks up recoveries everywhere.


But Link’s arrow is so legit. It fucks up recoveries everywhere.

(via lastmistakes)


I want to float and be smoke

Fly in the air and into your throat

I want to rest in your tongue


Stay on your lips

Stay on your finger tips

I’ll stay in your throat

And in your chest




I’ll rise once more

And dance like a


Reach me with your hand

I’ll move away




Miss me with your eyes

Miss me while, I dance away

Miss me




Tags: poem


on my top ten things ever to make me cryIM NOT KIDDING OK


on my top ten things ever to make me cry

(via charliebartlett)

Tags: :((((((((((

"Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics. You are all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded. Because the elements, the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution weren’t created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars. And the only way they could get into your body is if the stars were kind enough to explode. So forget Jesus. The stars died so you could be here today."

— Lawrence Krauss (via allhailtheinfidel) (via ageofreason, neightkelly)