I Think Being Called Apathetic By Someone I Just Met Says Alot About Me.

Chuck when he went to Becky for help.

Ever since you where born you’ve heard stories about the goddess of your world. It’s said that she creates everything in the world by making sculptures and paintings. Recently, many new species of plants and animals have been discovered only for them to become extinct soon after.

One night you wake up to find a glowing figure sitting at your desk, surrounded by crumpled up sheets of paper. She turns to you and says, “Hey, you think you could help me out? I’ve been having some serious art block recently”

tumblr where are they

some beebles sketches

these are old but my obsession is never ending

they’re so fucking rom-comy that’s what gets me. The 1950s summer meetcute set to a perfect and lyrically pertinent soundtrack?? The joke that is a gangly teenage boy looking like Elvis when viewed by someone who’s legally blind?? the whole good boy corrupted by an older leather bound teddy boy much to the dismay of his overprotective father thing they’ve got going on?? romantic trips to PARIS of all places?? they’re so fucking cliché who wrote this shit

WE’RE GETTING AN EXTRA HOUR OF DESTIEL LETS GOOOO

reblog and tag with your favorite dreamworks animated movie

Paul once reminded me, 'Don't forget, you're not very good, any of you, you know that, don't you?' I had forgotten, I had. It had gotten to the point where I was really believing in myself, you know, really having a good time being me. Apple was in its (comparatively) early days. I had been back from America three months, this was summer 1968. It was design time for stationery and advertisements and logos, we were building our image by being and that was trouble, being. Being was sticking your neck out and getting bites all over it. I don't think I ever hated anyone as much as I hated Paul in the summer of 1968. Postcards would arrive at my house from America or Scotland or wherever, some outright nasty ones, some with no meaning that I could see, one with a postage stamp torn in half and pasted neatly showing the gap between the two halves. Joan received one bearing the words: 'Tell your boy to obey the schoolmasters,' and signed: 'Patron.' Far out. Lots of people were getting postcards in those days; Christ, you know it wasn't easy. These were the days long before Klein came into town. These were the days when Neil Aspinall as Managing Director would come into my room in Apple in the middle of the day and collapse on the sofa and sit, staring and staring. He tells me now it was fear. I knew then it was fear. We were all frightened. We were frightened of Them and we were frightened of each other and we were frightened of the press. At about this time Paul wrote 'Hey Jude'. Remember: make a sad song better.

As Time Goes By, Derek Taylor (1973)

i wanna be with someone or a group of people that i can be annoying with. is that so wrong?