In very rare circumstances it is possible to see a full 360 degree rainbow from an airplane
“You just learn to cope with whatever you have to cope with. I spent my childhood in New York, riding on subways and buses. And you know what you learn if you’re a New Yorker? The world doesn’t owe you a damn thing.”
Lauren Bacall (9/16/1924 – 8/12/2014)
Jupiter’s great red spot. A hurricane three times the size of our whole planet that’s been raging for centuries.
*drinks vodka* *gags* “ugh I hate vodka” *drinks vodka*
I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy
because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless
and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that."
A golden raspberry is a natural variant of the red raspberry, with a more sweet, mild flavor and a remarkable pale yellow to orange-gold color. These berries are somewhat unusual when compared to conventional raspberries, and they are usually sold as a specialty item, often commanding a higher price as a result.
Photo credit: Matt Neele
"Unrequited Love Poem" by Sierra DeMulder — for anyone who has had feelings about the weirdly intimate nature of misplaced bobby pins.
Love this! Thank you!
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the sound I heard when I was 9 and my father slammed the front door so hard behind him I swear to god it shook the whole house. For the next 3 years I watched my mother break her teeth on vodka bottles. I think she stopped breathing when he left. I think part of her died. I think he took her heart with him when he walked out. Her chest is empty, just a shattered mess or cracked ribs and depression pills.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s all the blood in the sink. It’s the night that I spent 12 hours in the emergency room waiting to see if my sister was going to be okay, after the boy she loved, told her he didn’t love her anymore. It’s the crying, and the fluorescent lights, and white sneakers and pale faces and shaky breaths and blood. So much blood.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the time that I had to stay up for two days straight with my best friend while she cried and shrieked and threw up on my bedroom floor because her boyfriend fucked his ex. I swear to god she still has tear streaks stained onto her cheeks. I think when you love someone, it never really goes away.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s the six weeks we had a substitute in English because our teacher was getting divorced and couldn’t handle getting out of bed. When she came back she was smiling. But her hands shook so hard when she held her coffee, you could see that something was broken inside. And sometimes when things break, you can’t fix them. Nothing ever goes back to how it was. I got an A in English that year. I think her head was always spinning too hard to read any essays.
It’s not that I don’t love you. It’s that I do."