“It” is that place where things are divided between Blue and Green. When you return to “it”, your heart softens. You can eat pizza there all day long. By the way, any pizza is a personal pizza if you try hard and believe in yourself. But your heart is hard, you never try anything, and you don’t believe in yourself: you will never return.– Page read by AARON KUNIN.
Posts tagged Mr. Pumplechook
Can you have a long-distance relationship with someone you’ve never met? Because that’s exactly what you’re having and you do not know it. The finger of Providence is actually quite ignorant. It’s always better to hide behind a curtain.– Page read by BAILEY PARKS.
Let me break down this low murmur for you, so you can explain if you’re either a “helper” or a “doer”. You see, you think your mental glitch is your bread-and-butter, but you cannot be any more mistaken. You have a high functioning, emotionless intellect, but your madness is as plump as a peach. Go retrace your own steps.– Page read by MELISSA RECALDE.
There are two kinds of people in this life: people to pee in the shower and people who eat in public while lying to others. Don’t ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ them. Both have their souls in skin and bones. What else could be expected? When your friends act like little monsters, pretend they’re strangers and have no business here.– page read by TED MIRACCO.
Day after day worried about having a career, increasing your market value, growing older, wasting time. And then, in the end, does it matter how you lived? It seems like in the end, when the only thing left is regret, everyone seeks forgiveness for a life lived in worry.
I feel lucky that I’m still able to sleep in my childhood bedroom when I go visit my parents. At first it feels like I’ve been around the block and everything about it seems small. But then I get overwhelmed by a sense of belonging and closeness.
The first recorded usage of the word “QUEER” used as a derogatory term for effeminate gay people was in a letter by John Sholto Douglas, 9th Marquess of Queensberry to his son Lord Alfred Douglas in the late 19th C.