(Source: toadelevatingmoment, via tydrel)
doesn't matter what you say so long as what you say matters.
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UUUUUUGHHHHH. SOMEBODY BRING ME SOME ADDERALL AND THE MENU FOR SZECHUAN EXPRESS. I HAVE NINE AND A HALF HOURS TO WRITE AN EIGHT PAGE PAPER ON THE MAXIMILLIAN AFFAIR FOR MY LATIN AMERICAN STUDIES CLASS.
WHY AM I EVEN TAKING THAT COURSE? I’LL PROBABLY NEVER GO TO LATIN AMERICA IN MY ENTIRE LIFE.
… THAT’S WHAT GENERAL LORENCEZ SAID! RIGHT, GUYS?
RIGHT?
ANYBODY?
AHHHH, YOU’RE ALL HOPELESS.
IS ANYONE EVEN HOME?
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Berlin (April 30th, 2045)
Mars was the place for
The ones who wanted skeletons
that wouldn’t break
And computers in their skulls.
The ones who were tired of
reviving God’s children
when He had botched the designs.Maybe they could build Mars without the holy land,
Without bankers and lawyers, without cruelty?
There was plenty of money left here to fight over.
Maybe they could leave the poets
down here in the fallout
To sit and think about
how subversive it all was?
They’d love that—liftoff!Ernst awoke in a concrete bunker
at the back of his head,
listening to the petrochemical thunderstorm.
The rockets cleared their throats:
“Tomorrow will be May Day, but not in here!”The questions were different now; he could not shake them.
Maybe if they could have stopped them at Normandy?
Or the Bulge? Surely the Rhone…
Maybe he was insane?Something
muted… about
…pressure levels…
and azimuth…
maybe what street the Russians were on.
Just a tinny radio left on in the map room,
barely louder than the hiss of the stove—
He pulled the voices from his ears and ambled to the back.Silently Ernst pulled the
release trigger.
The door blew into irrelevance.
He crouched in the hatch like a zombie.
They were high now and the
rockets’ trails curved like twenty lashes
over a teary blue iris.Claus was somewhere down there
looking up. Ernst thought of Paris and of
Saturdays, checked the parachute once.And shot his goals for the sake of his dreams.
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1996
english: nineteen ninety six german: nineteen hundred six and ninety french: thousand nine hundreds four twenties sixteen -
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[scrolls] shit this blog is getting really gay really fast.
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I WILL NEVER GET OVER HOW these two have more sexual tension in one scene than rachel and finn have had in three season
the joke here is that they’re both gay.
this video is ALL about the cellists.
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the writers from margin call and merlin need to team up. all the cute boys of merlin with lots of shouting “FUCK. ME.”this honestly doesn’t even need writers. just idk throw something together with bradley james. at this point i am so over plot. -
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look at that face and die from perfection
you know, at least hes not smirking, then i’d really have a problem.
(via merlinboys)
Theme: Linear by Peter Vidani
