I Own A Sinner's Heart

34 yr old from Texas.

thecutestofthecute:

Hamster make breakfast

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Hamster drive car

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Hamster make tea with frend

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Hamster plan dinner party

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Hamster have Birfday

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Hamster love life

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Hamster happy to be live

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Hamster love you

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(via marciellesmusings)

the-misadventures-of-lele:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity
Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.
However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.
Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!
But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.
The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
But you remain.
Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.
All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.
But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.
Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. 
Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 
OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
A LAMINATED
PAPER
T OW E L
IDK MAN,
I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book
and the pages of that book
were made out of
laminated
paper towels

This fucking website has me thinking about the significance of my life compared to seemingly insignificant household items. I hate this place.

the-misadventures-of-lele:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity

Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.

However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.

Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.

So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!

But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.

Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.

The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.

But you remain.

Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.

All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.

But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?

Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.

The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.

Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever.

Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 

OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON

AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN

A LAMINATED

PAPER

T OW E L

IDK MAN,

I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book

and the pages of that book

were made out of

laminated

paper towels

This fucking website has me thinking about the significance of my life compared to seemingly insignificant household items. I hate this place.

(Source: shittybreadybun, via coffeebuddha)

saturns-queen:

1-4victor-acknowledges-all:

inunchartedwaters:

amplifytheworld:

referencesforartists:

brenanf999:

dontwantyourmoneysir:

anndruyan:

This is a summary of college only using two pictures; expensive as hell.

That’s my Sociology “book”. In fact what it is is a piece of paper with codes written on it to allow me to access an electronic version of a book. I was told by my professor that I could not buy any other paperback version, or use another code, so I was left with no option other than buying a piece of paper for over $200. Best part about all this is my professor wrote the books; there’s something hilariously sadistic about that. So I pretty much doled out $200 for a current edition of an online textbook that is no different than an older, paperback edition of the same book for $5; yeah, I checked. My mistake for listening to my professor.

This is why we download. 

Spreading this shit like nutella because goddamn textbooks are so expensive. 

not necessarily art related but as someone who couldn’t afford their textbooks this semester this is a godsend

REBLOGGING because after a little digging, I found my $200 textbook for free in PDF form.

friendly reminder that this exists since I know we’re all going back to college soon

Will reblog every time I see it.

For everyone about to return to school

(via coffeebuddha)

proudblackconservative:

simplystormie:

prismatic-bell:

niall-ate-mynamee:

cinderellawaitinforherprince:

heyfunniest:

zeebsdarling:

anus:

renkris:

Gordon Ramsay doesn’t care about your gender, race, or creed. All he cares about is that you can cook.

The contestant, Christine, is blind, and he lets her know exactly what he thinks of her dish.

OMG I was preparing myself to be enraged by him making some horrible comment but now I’m crying in Starbucks GOD DAMMIT

Christ I am not okay with these fEELINGS

IM BAWLING

That’s so cute I wanna cry

Is there a Gordon Ramsay fan base on this site??? And where can i join???

Spoilers, she won. Her cookbook is on sale now.

Also, this is the very first apple pie she ever made.

Also, can we please take notice OF HOW HE DESCRIBES IT FOR HER? Ramsay was extremely conscious during the entire season that she would require different tactics than the other contestants; this was not the only time he became her eyes, nor the only time he did things like that scrape of the knife so she could actually have a sense of her work.

And if you really want to bawl like a baby? During final four or final three, I forget which, the remaining contestants got photos from home. Christine’s husband sent their wedding photo—which she had never seen. Ramsay paused before starting the challenge to describe to her not only her husband—the look of love and joy on his face—but also herself as a bride, so she could see in her mind how the two of them looked together on their wedding day.

It was extremely obvious nobody had ever thought to do that before.

This man should be a fucking icon not just for his cooking, but for how he treats those who are different. During the same season he asked a handsome young man, making conversation during auditions, if he had a girlfriend. The man responded that he was gay. Ramsay, without missing a beat: “I’m sorry. Have you got a boyfriend, then?” No drama, no “oh my GOSH! You’re GAY? TOKEN CHARACTER :DDDD” just a very quick, simple whoops-my-mistake and the corrected inquiry. And then he never brought it up again! It was just a thing he learned, getting to know a contestant.

Yes, he can be harsh on MasterChef and downright cruel on Hell’s Kitchen (although if you were a sous chef and you served me raw pork that was not pork tartare, I’d scream too). But he’s not an ogre; he’s a polite man with a gigantic heart who simply happens to take no shit from those who should know better.

I love him so much like at first I was scared of him now I just respect him

I. CAN’T. STOP. MY. FEELS.

(via neverbythebook)